


Trying.

by sincerely_kasia



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brief Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Gore, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-06-23
Packaged: 2017-11-27 23:52:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 40
Words: 72,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/667907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sincerely_kasia/pseuds/sincerely_kasia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas is experiencing a lot of new things, and he doesn't quite know what they mean or what to do with himself. Canon divergence AU where Lucifer never got out of the cage. This fic is rated E because it CONTAINS sex, not because it is ABOUT sex, keep that in mind. There is some brief gore and blood, just fyi.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Timing is Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So you chose to wait until we were about to die in a flaming hospital to drop me a line.”  
> “That is correct. The moment seemed fine to me.”

In a sense, I was raised on the battlefield, as were the boys. The struggle between Heaven and Hell has always been raging, and at times I’ve been too naïve to see it, but it has always been there. You learn a few things during war, no matter what dimension it exists in. You learn to obey orders, to fight until the last breath, and to move fast. You learn to never hesitate, never lose focus of the objective. I was in a war of sorts, in a crumbling hospital in Norman, South Dakota, when I allowed myself to break focus from my surroundings. Dean Winchester stood in front of me with blood on his face, arm cradling his chest, teeth clenched in pain. He was yelling something to me, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying. The broken white tiles shook beneath us as the ground on the second floor fell out, and ruble fell around us. Dean’s hand was now on my shoulder, trying to shake me, knock me out of my stupor. Yet I stood there, staring at him, trying to put my thoughts into a cognitive sentence.

“I admire you, Dean Winchester.”

“WHAT?!?”

“I am experiencing a sense of admiration towards you.”

“CAS, I CAN’T HEAR YOU, WE HAVE TO GO!”

“I said, I admire you.”

“COME ON!”

Dean grabbed the collar of my coat and dragged me behind him through the smoky hallway, much like a large dog drags their owner along on a leash. Dean seemed extremely concerned with the collapsing building, and for a good reason, he thought he could have died. I wouldn’t let that happen, of course, but it was an instinct to worry, a reflex to dodge chunks of debris falling from above. We made it out alright, of course, and once we had exited, Dean sat down on the grass and watched the building burn.

“Freakin’ witches man!”

“What is it about a witch that distresses you?”

“I don’t know, Cas, maybe the fact that WE ALMOST GOT STRANDED IN THERE AND DIED BECAUSE OF THEM!”

I sat down on the grass next to him and watched the building burn as well.

“If we were in any real danger, I would have handled it.”

“Yeah, thanks for that. God, I need a drink.”

“It is highly unlikely that God would-“

“I know, dammit. What were you saying back there, by the way?”

“I admire you, Dean Winchester”

“Come again?”

I looked to him, and he looked confused. Perhaps he hadn’t heard me, once again.

“I am feeling a very extreme admiration for you Dean, on a surprisingly emotional level.”

I looked back to the hospital, and another room exploded towards the back. Likely a highly flammable gas had reached the fires.

“Well, that’s new.”

“Not exactly.”

“Oh?”

“I have been watching over you since birth, so I have known you much longer than you have known me. The admiration has been around for quite some time.”

“How lovely.”

“I suppose so.”

“So you chose to wait until we were about to die in a flaming hospital to drop me a line.”

“That is correct. The moment seemed fine to me.”

Dean didn’t say anything else, but instead got up from the ground to go to his car. I went and sat in the backseat while he started the ignition. I enjoyed being in the car with him, although the method of travel was outdated and time consuming.

“Did you think we were gonna die back there, Cas? Is that why you told me?”

“No. We were not going to die in that hospital.”

“So why did you?”

“It seemed like a good time.”

Dean chuckled and began driving. We didn’t speak the entire way back to Bobby’s house. I allowed him time to recuperate from the wounds he had. He allowed me time to think about my next move. As we pulled into Bobby’s driveway, I decided that I needed help, and that Sam Winchester would likely be the best person to ask for it.

 

 “Sam, may I ask you something?”

Sam Winchester was sitting at Bobby Singer’s kitchen table, cleaning one of the various guns they owned. It seemed that Sam spent a large amount of his time performing this task. I doubt that the guns were really all that dirty, but he cleaned them anyways.

“Yeah, sure, what’s up Cas?”

He set the gun down and stood up to talk to me, which I took as a sign that he was genuinely interested in what I had to say. It was comforting.

“After you tell someone you admire them, what do you do next?”

“Like, admire them, as in, have a thing for them.”

“What thing?”

“No I mean, like…never mind. Uh, why do you ask?”    

“I have recently told someone that I admire them."

“Hm. Mysterious. How did said person respond?”

“They seemed surprised.”

“I would imagine. Well how long have you, I guess I’ll use your term for it, admired this person.”

“Approximately ten years Earth time.”

“Oh, I see, got a little crush on an angel, huh?”

“No, the person I admire is not an angel. He is a human.”

“So would you mind telling me who this human is, exactly?”

“Dean Winchester.”

Sam looked shocked, a reaction I was beginning to get used to, and he sat down and poured himself a drink. Everyone I had met usually poured themselves an alcoholic beverage when they were in pain or other distress, but Sam seemed amused. Perhaps he also had not understood.

“Your brother, Dean Winchester.”

“Yeah, no, I got that, loud and clear. I’m just a little surprised. Ten years?”

“As I tediously explained to Dean, I was assigned as a protector of sorts since the moment of his birth. I have always been here, and my admiration towards him probably began to develop when he was in his early twenties.”

“Well, that’s…that’s something else, Cas.”

“If you say so.”

“Dean, huh? I guessed it.’

“What do you mean.”

“You can kind of tell when someone is in love.”

“I didn’t say I was in love.”

“Right, sorry, yeah, admire is the word you prefer, my bad.”

“So what do I do next?”

“Buy him roses, I guess?”

Sam was laughing, but what he said was a good idea, when I really thought about it. I had witnessed many times on television a man giving a woman a dozen flowers as a sign of affection. I guess I was the man and Dean was the woman. I grabbed my coat and Bobby’s wallet off of the table.

 “Tell Bobby I will pay him back later.”

“Cas, I was just-“

I stood in front of a flower shop in New Jersey. Hopefully what Sam was trying to say wasn’t important, but I had to hurry. Sam might spoil the surprise for Dean, and that would ruin everything.

 

I entered the flower shop and approached the flourist, a teenaged girl with short pink hair and multiple facial piercings. Her mother disapproved of her piercings, so she got a tattoo of a flower on her lower back to anger her. She looked up from her magazine at me.

“Hi, can I help you with something?”

“I need some roses.”

“Aw, who’s the lucky lady?”

“Dean Winchester is not a lady.”

“Oh. Well alright, that’s cool too. So he’s your…?”

“Friend. Dean Winchester is my friend.”

“Oh right, friend, I’m sure. Look man, there’s no shame in buying your boyfriend flowers, dude.”

“Dean Winchester is not-“

“Your boyfriend, yeah, I got that.”

She reached behind the counter and retrieved 12 red roses, wrapped in plastic, and handed them to me.

“Uh, $40.99.”

I looked down at the bills in my hand and gave her one of them.

“Will this be enough?”

“Yeah, about double, I’d say so. Do you want change?”

“Change what?”

“Nothing, have a nice day!”

She seemed pleased by my purchase, but I did not know why. I exited the building, a bell ringing above the door as I left. I finally walked out with the roses in my hand, and turned into an alley so no one would see me disappear (people have a negative response to that). I arrived back at the house, and Bobby and Sam were waiting in front of me, arms crossed. We stood there for a few moments, and Bobby was the first to speak.

“Hello, loverboy, nice roses you got there. You’ve got the right idea, but I think maybe it’s a bit soon, and you should give this some more thought.”

“Yeah, Cas, I was just joking.”

“But when a person admires another person, they give them roses. I’ve seen it on television.”

“I know ya mean well, but I think it might be a little, uh, overwhelming for Dean.”

“Should I have bought a less expensive flower?”

“No, it’s not that, it just…help me out here, Sam.

“Dean doesn’t really respond well to affection.”

“Exactly, and he’s in a bit of a rough spot right now, so maybe we should just give him a little time.”

Dean walked in from the other room and stood between Sam and Bobby, putting an arm around each of them.

“What are we talking about?”

“Uh, Cas had a little bit of a misunderstanding, isn’t that right?”

“No, it is not. I have purchased these roses-“

“Cas, ya idjit…”

“-as a sign of my admiration towards you, Dean Winchester. I hope that you will accept them.”

I held the roses out towards Dean, and he looked back and forth between Bobby and Sam.

“What’s to misunderstand, guys? Can’t an angel buy me some flowers? Wow, never thought I would say that.”

Dean reached forward and took the roses from me, giving me a pat on the shoulder.

“Thanks, man, I love them. Haha, these are going on the table!”

He walked past me and into the kitchen, while Bobby and Sam looked confused at each other. These three men made it a habit to look confused at each other.

“Hey Bobby, do you have a vase or something we can put these in? Wait, I found something, nevermind.”

I turned around as Dean placed the roses inside a tall mug and set them in the center of the table, then stood back to look at them.

“I’m hungry, let’s go find a diner or something, huh? What do you say, Bobby, know any places with good pie?”

“There’s Rocco’s, down on Maple Grove… they have great…”

“Great, let’s go, I’m drivin.”

I turned to Sam and did my best to smile.

“Thank you for the advice, Sam, it appears to have worked.”

I walked past the both of them as they continued to look confused at one another. I’m still not sure what I did that was so confusing.


	2. Spots on the Walls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Most of the shapes you see in clouds are things you imagine, things you see simply because you want to see them. As I gazed at the grotesque blotches of missing paint on the dirty wall, the same effect was present. I saw what I wanted to see, rather than what was really there."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a tiny bit shorter, and i wrote it a little bit quicker. Hope you don't mind?

About a week later, I observed the bleach stains on Bobby’s walls, near the front door. It was obvious that there was likely some sort of accident, or perhaps not an accident at all, that sprayed blood all over the walls. Bobby seemed to think it was a problem, so he sprayed a bleach and ammonia solution onto the walls, and then washed them off. However, the bleach had eaten the paint off the walls, leaving interestingly shaped white spots.

I remember watching two young children looking up at the sky in a park in Lainsfield, New Hampshire in the early sixties. They each pointed up at the clouds and said what each of them looked like to them. It amused them for hours on end, which is not something that can be said for all children. Later that day, I tried it as well, and found it rather soothing, laying on the grass and trying to figure out what the clouds look like. In reality, they were just formations of water vapor, but sometimes, you could see a train, or a banana, or other objects. The most remarkable thing I ever saw while looking at clouds was an elephant dancing with a turtle on top of a yacht, which, of course, is a highly unlikely occurrence. Most of the shapes you see in clouds are things you imagine, things you see simply because you want to see them. As I gazed at the grotesque blotches of missing paint on the dirty wall, the same effect was present. I saw what I wanted to see, rather than what was really there. I saw a fire raging beneath a figure of a man. I tilted my head thirty seven degrees to the right, and the entire scene changed. The man appeared to be lifted from sharp spikes in the ground below him. I turned my head back, and the flames reappeared.

My concentration was broken when I noticed footsteps approaching me from behind. Dean, by the sound of his gait. He was terribly bow-legged, and you could tell just from the sound of him walking into a room.

“Whatcha doin’, Cas, trying to tell the future?”

I turned around to face him. He was still wearing the same clothes as during the day, but he had obviously been sleeping, due to the fact that his hair was awry, and his shirt was crooked on his body.

“Because, you know, we have people for that. If you see the face of God, let me know, I’ve got some words for him.”

Dean sat down on the couch and picked up a half-empty beer, beginning to drink. Dean drank at all hours, for all occasions, for no reason at all. Thankfully, it didn’t affect him the way it affected other people.

“God does not have a face.”

“Hm, really?”

“Yes, really.”

I sat down on the opposite side of the couch, as far away as possible, so there wouldn’t be another incident. About a month prior, I had sat close to him, and put my hands down on the couch casually, accidentally touching his thigh in a mildly suggestive manner. I still don’t like to talk about it. I was fine over there on my side.

“Well, isn’t that something.”

“Yes, I suppose it is.”

I could feel him staring at me, and when I turned to look he was smiling.

“Have I done something amusing?”

“Nah, you just take everything so literal. Like everything is just as simple as it sounds. The guys behind email fraud love guys like you.”

“I don’t think I take things literally.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, like just now. I can look at that bleach spot and know that it is just a bleach spot, but also know that it can look like something else.”

“Like what?”

“Like a man falling into a pit of flames.”

“Hm. Let me take a look.”

Dean rose from the couch to look at the spot. He turned his head just as I had, and shrugged.

“I personally see a bunny in a tutu, but hey, to each his own.”

“I am learning that a person’s interpretation of something is more important than the object itself.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

He sat back down, on his hemisphere of the couch, which I appreciated.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, when I first met you, I thought you were a dick, and I tried to kill you, unless of course you don’t remember that.”

“And now?”

“And now what?”

“And now, how do you perceive me?”

I knew the moment after I said it that I probably shouldn’t have. We were still on uncertain terms with things, and I had most likely put him in an odd position.  We hadn’t talked  about it, in the week since my confession. Dean was slightly nicer to me than usual, but nothing was strained. There had been hardly any difference in the way things were between us, and I was happy about it. I should not have said what I said. He was looking down at his beer bottle, swishing the liquid around inside.

“I perceive you as a really great friend, Cas.”

I struggled for a moment for the correct thing to say.

“Thank you, Dean.”

“Hey, anytime man. I’m gonna turn in though, see you in the morning.

Dean set down his now empty beer bottle on the coffee table and walked away into his room without saying anything else. I was left alone on the couch, and I got bored after a while, so I stood up and walked back over to the bleach stains. I looked at it again, but it still appeared the same. When I looked at it head on, it looked like a man falling into a pit of fire. A man desperately holding on to his last breaths, holding onto whatever he could find on his way down, holding on to the last threads of his humanity. I saw a man with no hope, no life, no future. I turned my head to the right again, and the image changed. As much as I tried to see the flames, I couldn’t. I saw the man being lifted from the spikes beneath him, and when I got closer, I saw that something was physically lifting him. I saw that he was being lifted by something with wings.

I saw that the man had found salvation, forgiveness, a second chance. Life, over the death that he had stared in the face. Above him, I saw another shape giving him that second chance. I saw an angel lift a man from the flames, and I understood.

Each person has their own interpretations of art, language, the world around them. Each person has their own interpretations of men. Many people had the same interpretation of Dean Winchester; drunk, angry, hurt, impatient, cold, wrathful, distant. Maybe all of that was true, but that is not how I interpreted Dean Winchester. I interpreted him as the man I had fallen in love with.


	3. Messy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You should wipe that off, Dean.”  
> “Is it bothering you?”  
> Dean picked up his napkin and wiped his forehead, missing the sauce completely.  
> “I sense sarcasm.”

The next morning, Sam and Bobby left to do a few interviews, leaving me and Dean alone. We wandered around the house wordlessly for a while, watching television, making breakfast. Dean finally spoke, after an hour of silence.

“Yeah, I can’t do this.”

“Do what, Dean?”

“Just sit inside all day. There is a giant coven of witches, biggest one we’ve ever come across, fifty at least, and we are just sitting here.”

“Technically, you are standing.”

Dean looked down at himself, and then gave me a frustrated glare.

“Come on, we’re going to the library. As much as I hate to say it, we have some research to do.”

I followed him to the car, and got inside. Dean put the keys into the ignition, muttering inaudibly to himself.

“It’s never happened before, but do you think it’s a family thing? Usually they start out as some sort of yoga group or book club, but, I don’t know, could they actually be sisters and daughters and aunts and stuff? Maybe that’s how this has been a recurring problem: every time a hunter thinks he’s wiped ‘em out, they just keep making more of them. What do you think?”

“That is a possibility, yes.”

“Alright, so we hit up the archives, see what we can see.”

Dean’s hands were gripped tightly on the wheel, knuckles turning white. He had a small smile, but it was slowly spreading across his face.

“See, Sam and Bobby aren’t the only brains of the operation here. Without them yapping in my ear every five seconds, I can actually get crap done.”

“You’re proud of yourself.”

“Hell yeah I am!”

“Good. You deserve it.”

“Whaddya mean?”

I met his eyes then, and he stared relentlessly back at me.

“I mean, you don’t give yourself enough credit. You are a lot smarter than you realize. You should keep your eyes on the road, Dean.”

He didn’t. He continued to stare at me, and I couldn’t read him. After a moment, he turned back to the road, and eased his grip on the wheel.

“Well, how about that.”

We fell into silence until we got to the library. I followed him inside, and waited behind him while he asked the old librarian where the archives were located. I noticed how old his jacket was, worn and creased all over. He probably should get a new one.

“Alright, so we’re towards the back, uh, over here.”

We walked to a small corner of the library, where huge crates were stacked against the walls. Dean pulled one of them out, set it on a table, and opened it. Inside were at least a hundred newspapers. We looked at each other, and back at the wall. He mentally calculated the amount of newspapers that were there, and sighed.

“Well, we might as well get started.”

I took a crate and sat down across from him in the blue chair at the table. I leafed through the first newspaper, dated January 1st, 1924. I looked up at Dean, brows furrowed in concentration. I could have told him that I could easily find everything we needed within moments, but he seemed to be enjoying himself, so I didn’t say anything.

“And that closes out, uh, 1926. You see anything weird yet?”

We had been in the library for hours, and Dean was now leaning back in his chair, feet on the table, rubbing his eyes with his hands.

“Nothing yet.”

“Well, I’m hungry, I’m gonna go grab something. You stay here, and uh, keep looking I guess.”

“Wait, Dean-“

He had already turned around the corner, boots thudding on the carpeted floor. I looked back down at the newspaper I was going through, and continued reading.

A few minutes later, Dean returned with a white bag with a pig logo on it.

“Ribs! Rib place right around the corner.”

He plopped back down into his chair and started to open the bag.

“Do you want some?”

“No thank you. I don’t think we are supposed to eat here.”

“I don’t think we’re supposed to eat here,” Dean repeated back to me in a high pitched voice. “In case you hadn’t noticed, Cas, I kinda do what I want.”

He opened up a foil package, lifting the meat out of it and taking a bite. In the process, he had smeared sauce on the right side of his bottom lip.

“You have sauce on you.”

“Huh, where? Here?”

He gestured to his left cheek, putting sauce there too.

“No, now its on your cheek as well.”

“Oh, so maybe here.”

Again, he wiped sauce onto himself.

“Dean.”

“Or what about over here…here too…am i…getting any of it…Cas?”

About 40% of his face had barbeque sauce on it.

“You should wipe that off, Dean.”

“Is it bothering you?”

Dean picked up his napkin and wiped his forehead, missing the sauce completely.

“I sense sarcasm.”

“Nah, no sarcasm. Really, where is it?”

There was a tiny smile hinting at the corner of his disgusting mouth, and he was holding back a laugh. I abruptly stood up in my chair and thundered around the table to him. I reached inside the white bag and pulled out the napkins, holding his head under his chin to keep it still with one hand, and vigorously cleaning him with the napkins in the other.

“You are acting extremely childish, Dean. You may be laughing, but I do not think it is funny. You look like a pig.”

During the entire ordeal, he sat still, eyes wide. I threw the napkins on the table and stormed back to my side of the table, falling into my chair in such a manner as to show my annoyance. Dean sat there in shock, and I was glad. It wasn’t my job to keep him clean.

“Alright then, mother, jeez.”

“I am not-“

“I know. Keep looking through the papers.”

“It’s the Kalite family, dating back to the early 1800’s, all unwed female descendants of Madame Elizabeth Kalite. It is a family coven, and they live on the outskirts of town.”

“Did you know that the whole time?”

“Yes, of course I did.”

“You…Cas, I…”

I expected him to get angry, or snap at me, but to my surprise, he just laughed.

“Alright then, let’s go.”

“You aren’t angry that I withheld information from you?”

“You clean up my mess, I spend hours in a library for no reason. I’d say we’re even pal.”

He slung his arm around me and we walked out, leaving the mess of newspapers on the table. Dean still made sure to grab his bag of food.

We went back to the car, but he didn’t start driving. He just looked at the bag in his lap and smiled.

“You ever have ribs, Cas? They are a godsend. Well not literally, but, you know.”

“No, I haven’t.”

He held the bag out to me, and I would have refused, but it seemed rude. I pulled out the wrapped meat and unfolded it, taking a cautious bite.

“Good, right?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Oh, uh, you got…”

“What?”

He reached over to my face, and I backed away at first, but then I let him continue. He wiped at something on my chin with his thumb, his rough hands scraping my skin. Cleaning his hand on his jeans, his eyes never left mine, looking back and forth between them.

“Got it.”

“Thank you.”

“Guess we’re both kinda messy, huh?”

He started the ignition, and gripped the wheel tightly as he had earlier, but it wasn’t the same. He didn’t look happy like he did before. He looked hurt. We drove away, and I could still feel where his hand had been. My skin seemed to buzz where he touched it. I looked forward and didn’t say anything the rest of the ride.


	4. Paper Thin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I like to pretend that it doesn’t bother me. I like to pretend that this stone in my gut wasn’t so utterly human, such a human emotion. I like to pretend that none of this ever happened, but pretending only ever made things worse."

I like to pretend that I couldn’t hear through the walls. I pretend that everything I hear is replaced by a sharp ringing, by a shrill scream, by just about anything but this. I pretended that, as I lay in that bed, never falling asleep, never needing it, that I couldn’t hear high pitched giggles in the next room. That I didn’t know exactly what was going on. That it didn’t burn quite as bad as it did. I suppose ignorance really is bliss. That it’s just human nature, and I have nothing to be mad about. I liked to pretend that I am not bothered, but what use is pretending anyway?

I was standing in the living room that morning, not really knowing what else to do with myself. I knew I should stay, protect over the boys, and so I did. As I always did. The day was just as any other, the three of them buzzing around, doing what Winchesters and Singers do. I stood out of the way, and no one really noticed me, and that was alright. I prefer to observe rather than interfere anyway. You see what a person really is when they don’t think anyone is paying attention. Bobby had a rash on his lower back that he scratched almost constantly, but no one noticed. Sam often blew his nose, and was contracting a mild cold, but no one noticed. Dean tied and untied his shoes out of the blue, just to give his hands something to do when he was bored, but no one noticed. I noticed, but I don’t count. Life flows around me whether I am there or not. I suppose this would distress anybody else, the feeling of not being needed, but I am not anybody else.

Dean decided to finally acknowledge me, and it startled me.

“Well, ya comin’?”

“Coming where?”

“To the bar, Cas.”

I looked around, and Sam and Bobby were gone, probably drifted into another room while I wasn’t paying attention.

“No thank you, Dean. I’ll just stay here.”

“Come on man, one drink.”

“I don’t think I should. It affects my vessel in a negative way.”

“Yeah, you and everyone else on the planet. But we do it anyways. So lets’ go.”

I hesitated for a moment, but finally followed him out. I could sense that something bad was going to happen, and I knew that there was nothing I could do about it.

We arrived at the bar, and I was immediately uncomfortable. It smelled like smoke, alcohol, and unbathed flesh, as per usual. Dean led me to the far end of the bar, and ordered a beer for each of us.

“See, I don’t get it, man. We show up at the Kalite place, and they are gone, no trace of them anywhere. Everything leaves a trail, except them of course. They might come back, but honestly, I think we are wasting our time. If we come across them again, we’ll nab ‘em, but as of now, there’s nothing we can do. Thanks, man.”

Dean retrieved the beers from the bartender, and opened them, sliding one over to me. I didn’t plan on consuming it, of course, but the gesture was still there.

“I think we should stay, I think they will come back.”

Dean took a sit of his beer, and placed it back on the countertop, looking over to me.

“What makes you say that?”

“They left someone behind, and they will be back to retrieve them.”

“Woah woah woah, what?”

“At various places in the house, there were visible nail marks, signs of a struggle. I infer that one of them rebelled, probably a young witch, thinking that the murders were wrong. So they locked her in the house, and left. She eventually found a way out, and left quite a bit later.”

“Why would they leave one of them behind for us to find? Especially when she already wanted to tell the authorities what was going on?”

“Witches are…bound in a way that most people are not, especially family covens. The worst punishment for a witch, other than death, is abandonment.”

“So they leave her behind as a kind of ‘screw you’ since she was trying to rat them out?”

“I believe so.”

“Huh.”

Dean took another huge sip of his beer, and put it down once again.

“You’re really good at that, you know.”

“Good at what, Dean?”

“Putting stuff together like that. Maybe, you know, if the cards were shuffled a little differently, in an alternate universe or something, you could have been a detective or something.”

“We are detectives, Dean. Right?”

“Uh, not exactly, bud. We pretend to be.”

“Isn’t that wrong?”

“99% of everything we do is wrong.”

“I see your point.”

“We do what we have to do to get rid of bad people, so good people don’t die.”

“It sounds much better when you say it like that.”

Dean chuckled, patting me on the shoulder.

“That’s the idea. It’s also part of my job, making things seem better than they actually are. You see, it’s easier for normal people to see in black and white. This is real, and that isn’t. And when you present them with something they aren’t comfortable with, such as, hey, there’s a monster hiding in your closet, despite your parents telling you they weren’t real, and we are here to rescue you, it comes across better if you know how to word it.”

“I see now.”

“Yeah, I see something too…”

Dean was looking past me, at something behind me, and I turned around. A lady with blonde hair and too much makeup was waving in our direction, and I think she was trying to flirt with Dean.

“Do you mind?”

“Do I mind what, Dean?”

“If I, uh, go say hello.”

“Yes, I suppose that is alright.”

Dean stood and walked past me, again with a huge grin on his face, again patting me on the shoulder. I turned for a moment to look at them, and I saw Dean ordering her a drink as well. I turned back, and became utterly fascinated with one of the bar napkins.

 

 

 

After a while, I am not sure how long, the napkin had been folded, unfolded, folded again, unfolded again, and torn into approximately 572 pieces, which I then arranged into different shapes. The bartended came over periodically, asking me if I needed anything, and I said no. The beer Dean bought me remained untouched. I turned and looked at him, and he was leaning close to her, presumably listening to her talk, laughing when she said something funny, saying ‘no way!’ when she said something unbelievable. There were now numerous empty beer bottles next to her, but Dean still had his first, still half full. I turned back to my napkin, and arranged the pieces into a triangle. There is a way that you can make a triangle so that it is equal on all sides, and the same no matter which direction you looked at it from, and this kept me occupied for a while. A few minutes later, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

“Come on, Cas, we’re leaving.”

Dean was holding up the blonde lady, who was very obviously heavily intoxicated. She leaned into his chest, depending on him to keep her from falling. She was laughing inaudibly, and she smelled completely rotten.

“Who’s, who is this guy?”

“Uh, this is my friend, Cas, he lives with me.”

“Is he gonna dr….”

“Am I going to what? Speak clearly.”

“Hey man there’s no reason for that rude upset. Are you gonna drive in the car, you know?”

Dean looked at her and smiled, but I was disgusted. I had never enjoyed the effect that alcohol had on people.

“No, I am not.”

“Well, Deany Beany, how many drinks did you? Are we gonna get ‘rrested?”

“It’ll be fine, let’s go, I’ll drive you home.”

The blonde woman looked up at Dean, and I got a better look at her. The once tolerable makeup was now smeared all over her face, and she reminded me of a circus clown. She really wasn’t all that attractive, but nevertheless, Dean looked at her like she was a precious gem.

“Maybe, maybe I can stay the night at your place, yeah?”

“Uh, yeah, that sounds good to me.”

I leaned in to talk quietly into Dean’s ear.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Come on, Cas, just one night. Let me have this, man.”

He turned and headed for the door, dragging the woman along, and I followed. Once we reached the car, she fumbled with the handle for a while before finally getting in. I sat in the backseat, as usual. The entire ride back was agonizing. The lady had draped herself on Dean, kissing his neck as he drove, whispering things into his ear that I couldn’t hear. Every time she spoke, Dean smiled and laughed.

I began to feel a weight in my gut, and I thought for one terrifying second that my vessel was going to be sick, but it wasn’t, and I was fine. The weight in me got heavier with each passing moment, and anger washed over me. I had nothing to be angry about, but it happened anyways, and I didn’t understand why.

We finally arrived, and I was the first one in the door, walking as quickly as I could to the restroom. I leaned over the toilet, thinking that my body would vomit, get rid of something I had consumed, but nothing happened. After a minute or two, I decided to go and lay down in the bed I was given, and that was when it began.

It took me a minute to understand what was happening in the next room, and when I figured it out, I wished I hadn’t. Dean’s heavy breath, the girl giggling in the next room, the sound of various clothing items hitting the floor, Dean’s belt buckle being undone, the squeak of the mattress springs. I really wished the walls were thicker, or that maybe I couldn’t hear that, but I did.

I ran back to the bathroom again, thinking that this time, this time I would definitely vomit. I leaned over the toilet for what seemed like forever, muscles in my abdomen seizing up. I stared silently at the wall next to me, hoping that something would come out so I could feel better. I stood up, finally, realizing that there was nothing I could do about it. I walked back to the bed, stomach still reeling, and laid down, curling in upon myself. The noises from the next room became steady, a constant drum of skin on skin, and my stomach burned.

What did that lady have to offer, anyways? She obviously didn’t make much money, her state of mind was unhealthy, and she was in no way attractive. Yet Dean was in the other room, moving into her, his panting breaths clear as a bell in my mind. And there was nothing I could do about it. I considered leaving, but there was always the possibility that the woman could attack Dean, so it was best that I stayed close.

I like to pretend that I can’t hear what happens in other rooms. I like to pretend that Dean doesn’t look at women the way he does. I like to pretend that it doesn’t bother me. I like to pretend that this stone in my gut wasn’t so utterly human, such a human emotion. I like to pretend that none of this ever happened, but pretending only ever made things worse.

I laid there with my eyes closed, not sleeping it, not needing it. And I endured. And I just acted as if I couldn’t hear anything. I just pretended. Life flows around me whether I am there or not. At that time, I think we all wished I wasn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a little longer, hope you like it!!! Be sure to leave feedback, you know us writers and our constant encouragement.  
> Also, if you guys have a Tumblr, my url is jimmyyesvak.tumblr.com Follow me, then send me an ask that you read Trying. I'll tag you in a post whenever a new chapter comes up. Thank you again for the read!


	5. Good Intent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Dean does this sort of thing. Asserts his dominance, reassures himself of his masculinity. It’s a problem. But it’s just him, and you just have to know that she will be gone by noon, and you’ll never see her again."

Hours passed, and I waited for the tell-tale sound of a woman getting dressed, low whispers and kisses goodbye, high heels clicking across the floor, the door opening and closing, a cab driving away. I listened, actually wanting to listen now, but I heard something I didn’t want to. I heard Dean snoring, then Dean waking up, then a female whisper, then two pairs of footsteps tiptoeing to the kitchen. Water running, dishes clanking, pan sizzling. All of the sounds of his morning routine. With the addition of an unneeded party, of course.

I should really stop mixing business with displeasure.

I reluctantly headed out towards the kitchen as well. There was no way to avoid it, and if I had laid in bed all day, Dean would have come in to check on me, and I didn’t want that. What I really wanted was that little rat to leave. I entered the dining room and she sat in a chair with a newspaper shielding her face. Dean had his back to me, standing at the stove cooking a breakfast item. The lady heard me enter, and put her newspaper down, smiling at me. Now her makeup was gone, washed off at some point, and she looked even uglier, which I thought would be impossible. Apparently, it wasn’t. I have seen an incalculable amount of hideous monsters, so I mean what I say.

“Hey, how’s it going uh…”

“Castiel.”

“Right, yeah, strange name. How are you?”

“I have no desire to speak to you.”

I regretted saying this the second it exited my lips, because Dean turned around and gave me an annoyed look.

“Um, okay. That’s cool I guess.”

She put the newspaper up, and obstructed my view of her face once again, thankfully. I walked over to Dean, and leaned in to talk quietly to him. I moved things around on the counter, making it seem like I was doing something.

“Why is she still here, Dean?”

“Because I’m a gentleman, I’m not gonna kick her out on the street or anything.”

“She would find her way home.”

“Hey you alright, dude?”

He looked at me with a shocked expression for the millionth time.

“Yes. Why?”

“Because you are bright red. And shaking a little. Maybe go sit down, take a breather. You sure you’re okay? You’re not mad are you?”

“No. I am not mad.”

I turned on my heel and walked out, leaving a sputtering Dean Winchester in my wake. I’m almost positive that the lady tried to talk to me as well, but I kept walking, and exited the house. I found myself headed for the backyard, and I sat down on the back porch, legs crossed in front of me on the warm pavement.

I wasn’t jealous, surely. I thought it over, I had seen jealously before. It causes war, genocide, hate, murder. I’ve watched it happen right before my eyes. Seen men throw each other around because of jealousy. It was simply sick, and I wasn’t going to tolerate it. I wasn’t going to let myself become a slave to that foolishly human emotion. To any emotion whatsoever. Jealousy, anger, sadness. Love. I am an angel of the lord, and I was directed from the moment of my creation that humans were meant to observe, to learn from. Not to mix with, not to allow their feelings rub off on you. I was instructed to create a barrier between myself and them, and I had let that barrier weaken much too long ago. I wouldn’t make that mistake again.

I was startled by the sound of a door opening and closing behind me. I knew it would be Dean, and I didn’t turn around.

“Hey, Cas. What’s up?”

A sigh of relief.

“Oh, hello Sam. At the moment, the awning.

I turned to look at him, and he really was tall from down here. He had a cup of coffee, and was dressed in his exercise clothing.

“Yeah, I uh. I guess it is. How are you?”

“I am not well.”

“Oh?”

He set his coffee down, and joined me on the ground. He crossed his legs similarly to mine, and picked his coffee back up.

“Yes.”

“Well, what’s wrong?”

“I am beginning to feel many very dangerous, very human emotions. Or I was about to, I’m going to stop.”

“That’s not how that works, Cas.”

“Why not?”

“You can’t just turn off an emotion, as much as we all want to. If it’s there, it’s there, and it’s not going to go away if you try to will it to.”

“This is not good information.”

“What emotion are you trying to get rid of?”

“Jealousy.”

“Why…oh. Oh, Cas.”

“What?”

I looked over to him, and he had an expression on his face similar to a hurt animal. He wrapped one arm around me.

“Is it because of, you know. Dean?”

“I believe so.”

“Oh, man. Um…”

He looked at me in a pitying manner, and it made me slightly uncomfortable. I didn’t want pity; I wanted to learn how to turn off emotions. It seemed like something that would be simple enough.

“Don’t let it get to you. The uh, the girl? Is that why?”

“Hardly a girl, more of a rat.”

His arm fell off of my shoulder, and his face became more serious.

“Yeah, I agree. Just. Dean does this sort of thing. Asserts his dominance, reassures himself of his masculinity. It’s a problem. But it’s just him, and you just have to know that she will be gone by noon, and you’ll never see her again.”

“She will?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I dislike her strongly.”

“Yeah, you and me both. But she’ll be gone. Uh, I can talk to Dean if you want?”

“About what?”

“Maybe tell him to lay off a bit with the one night stands.”

“No, that’s alright.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, I am sure.”

“Cas, look, his intentions are good, I promise you. He does mean well.”

“There is a saying, that the road to hell is paved with good intent. Apparently, so is his bed.”

Sam choked on his coffee, spitting it out in the opposite direction of me. I was glad, I didn’t like the smell of coffee, and it stuck to everything. He threw his head back in laughter, and I allowed myself to chuckle as well.

“You’re really getting the hang of this whole joking thing, aren’t you?”

“I think so.”

He stood up and started to walk away, wiping coffee from his chin.

“Hey, I’m gonna go for a run, but uh, remember what I said. You can’t just turn your emotions off. God knows we try. But while there are things out there like hate, and anger, and jealousy, there’s also joy, and friendship, and uh. And love. So just, remember to hold on to the good things, they make the bad things easier to cope with.”

He walked around the corner before I had a chance to respond. I was still thinking upon what he had said. I was jealous, when I was being truthful with myself. But being around Dean also made me happy. Very happy, most of the time. Almost all of the time, and it really wasn’t so bad the other times.

I stood up and dusted off my coat, heading back inside through the back door. I walked through the house to find that Dean was sat at the couch. I looked around. The newspaper was still there, dishes in the sink. But no sign of the lady. Sam was right, she left. I needed to start listening to Sam more often, he knew Dean much better than I did. Dean noticed me, and nodded.

“You feeling better?”

“I wasn’t…yes, I feel better.”

“Good, come sit down, Dr. Sexy is on.”

I chuckled and sat down on the opposite side of the couch from him.

“What is it about this show that you enjoy so greatly?”

“Has to be the plot, dude. So many twists and turns. So intense.”

“I see.”

“Like right now, Dr. Johnson is hitting on Nurse Elizabeth.”

“Does he love Nurse Elizabeth?”

“Nah, he’s just chasing tail. Him and Dr. Carlson though, in neurosurgery, he’s really got a thing for her.”

“A what?”

“A thing. You know, he has feelings for her.”

“But he’s, as you say, hitting on the nurse.”

“Right.”

“But it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Exactly.”

“And he means well, he doesn’t mean to hurt Dr. Carlson. He just doesn’t know better. He’s full of good intent.”

“Pretty much.”

“Oh. I suppose it is a good show after all.”

He looked at me, yet again, confused. His eyes shifted back and forth between mine, trying to read me, yet again.

“Great show. Grab me a beer, would you?”

Dean really was as dense as a brick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this chapter, guys! I'm gonna try to update every three days or so. Be sure to kudos and comment!!!  
> Also, if you guys have a Tumblr, my url is jimmyyesvak.tumblr.com Follow me, then send me an ask that you read Trying. I'll tag you in a post whenever a new chapter comes up. Thank you again for the read!


	6. Floodgates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Everything rushed in at that moment, standing in Bobby Singer’s kitchen, one hand in a drawer, feeling around for a towel. The floodgates had finally opened, and I had to be honest with myself."

A week passed after the incident, which I like to call “The Rat Event”, and it seemed as though we had finally reached an unspoken agreement. I think that, subconsciously, Dean understood that I didn’t like having random women around, and so there were no more guest appearances. The week following The Rat Event is hard to describe, but I shall try my best. I feel as though my eyes were opened that week, and I saw Dean in an entirely new light. Everything just seemed to fall together.

That afternoon, we sat together on the couch, watching Dr. Sexy on the television, as we almost always did. I eventually became aware that Dean had breached my hemisphere of the couch. Additionally, he was leaning in my direction, slightly noticeable, but of course, I did. We had started on complete opposite sides, but now he was close to me, much closer than usual. He had always gotten mad about me invading his personal space, and I had learned to respect that. I had learned that there was an invisible box around his entire person that was for his form only. Yet here he was, letting me in.

Part of me felt bold, felt that I should try and move in closer to him as well. I enjoy the physical closeness to Dean, but I also don’t want to break the rare moment that he had already provided. That would be the worst possible scenario. I also had to consider the best. The best case scenario would be to move an inch or so in his direction, and he would move an inch or so in my direction, and so on and so forth until our shoulders were touching, and I could feel the couch sink down next to me where his body was, feel his chest rise and fall if I sat still enough. I had to admit, the possibility of the best case was pretty compelling. I thought on this for a while, let it roll around in my mind for a while, and then, as a less dramatic leap of faith, I did it. I inched over a bit in his direction, very subtly, as though I was just adjusting and getting comfortable. I held my breath and watched Dean out of the corner of my eye, to see how he would react. He was staring. He was staring directly at me and he knew I was trying to move towards him. If I tried to move back, it would become all too obvious what I was trying to do and it would foil my entire plan. I knew that I had been found out, so I decided to just look him in the face, take whatever silent judgment he had to give me.

He sat as still as stone, just staring at me with a straight face. I almost shivered.

We sat there in utter silence, staring each other down, trying to read each other with our eyes. I couldn’t figure out what was going on in his mind, he was basically a blank slate. This went on for about three actual seconds, but it felt much longer than that. He finally, finally turned back to the television, and I knew that it was over. My chance was gone.

Until I felt him stand, cross the space between us in half a second, and sit down, body pressed against me at multiple points. I tried to focus on each of them; the knee, the shoulder, the arm, the ankle. His entire left side was pressed gently against my right, and he said nothing at all.

I held my breath, wanted to say something, wanted him to say something, wanted to ask why, but I couldn’t. I just had to let it happen. Just had to enjoy it while it lasted. I kept my eyes plastered to the television, through commercial, through everything. When I finally had the courage to look at him, he was asleep, body again turned ever so slightly towards me, head laying against the back of the couch.

I watched him sleep, not for the first time, but for the first time at this close. I watched his chest rise and fall, listened to him snore softly. I stared at each individual eyelash and marveled at each freckle. I stared at the shape of his lips, the sharp curve of his jaw, the way his Adam’s apple bobbed with each snore. I looked at him, and I truly saw him

That was the first crack in the wall.

The next thing that happened that week was much more subtle, but even more important than the first. It was the next morning, after he had woken up, and I was sat at the table, reading through more newspapers for clues about the case we were working. The trail had gone almost cold, the entire Kalite clan having wiped out any evidence they had ever been there. I heard him walk in from his bedroom, the heavy boots thudding against the wood floors. I did my best to act casual, as though he hadn’t arrived at all. I continued to look at the newspaper, and I realized that the footsteps were nearing me, getting louder and louder until he was right behind me. Without waiting a beat, he placed each of his hands on the upper part of my arms, and rested his chin on my left shoulder. I could feel him breathing on my neck, and I froze.

“Find anything?”

“Did I, what?”

“Did you find anything, on the case, about the Kalite clan, in the paper you are reading?”

I forced myself to take a quiet breath. He was still there, right in my ear, stubble rough against my neck. I needed to focus.

“No, nothing yet.”

“Hm.”

He patted my arms twice, and stood up, walking over to the refrigerator to find something for breakfast. The entire ordeal lasted maybe seven seconds, but it felt like much longer. I remembered where he had been, his skin against mine, for just that moment.

That was the second crack in the wall.

The final thing was definitely the one that stands out in my mind the most. A few days had passed, no luck with the case, and more importantly, no other developments with Dean. Each touch had a very obvious purpose, bumping shoulders because the space was small or grazing fingertips when I handed him a beer. The most important thing happened on a Thursday night, while we were sitting on the couch, once again, watching television. I had just sat down with two beers, and Dean was showing me how to open mine. After much pulling, twisting, and frustration, I opened it, and a small amount had spilled on me, running down my leg and into the couch cushions. I pushed myself up from the couch, and that’s when it happened. My hand completely enveloped Dean’s, and I let it linger there for too long, because Dean looked up at me. I struggled with my words, but finally choked something out.

“I’m, I’m sorry.”

I was still frozen, a deer in headlights. I didn’t even know what to do, how to excuse or write off this blatantly obvious sign of affection. It was one thing to touch him accidentally, but remaining there on purpose was another.

“No, it uh…”

A smile started from the corner of his lips, and slowly, ever so slowly, spread across his face, until he was grinning.

“No, it’s okay.”

We stayed like that for a moment, a very long moment. It would have made anyone else uncomfortable, but oddly enough, we were each okay with it. I finally pulled my hand from his, my fingers dragging against his, and walked into the kitchen to find a towel. I thought about his smile, and how he had wanted me to touch him. Wanted me to hold his hand like that, for that brief moment, and how it was okay. He hadn’t minded at all. He had smiled.

That was the last crack.

Everything rushed in at that moment, standing in Bobby Singer’s kitchen, one hand in a drawer, feeling around for a towel. Dean’s eyes, and his lips, and his hair. His laugh and his strength and his freckles. His trust, and his honesty, and his courage. Everything in my mind was Dean, every crack, every corner, every tiny space. He occupied my pores now, he became every inhale and exhale. He became everything, all at once. The floodgates had finally opened, and I had to be honest with myself. Dean had become a part of me. The most important part of me. I had always been willing to die for him, but then, I was willing to die a million times over. I wanted to hold him, to hear him laugh. I wanted to kiss him. Everything in me suddenly switched, and everything was Dean Winchester. And everything was wonderful.

“Hey, you ok Cas?”

Everything rushed in at once.

“Yes, I am alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is guys, that is IT!!! Hope you liked it!  
> Be sure to leave feedback, you know us writers and our constant encouragement.  
> Also, if you guys have a Tumblr, my url is jimmyyesvak.tumblr.com Follow me, then send me an ask that you read Trying. I'll tag you in a post whenever a new chapter comes up. Thank you again for the read!


	7. Heightened

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It really did hit me like a train. Or perhaps something with a greater mass, such as a meteor. Whatever you want to call what had just happened to me."

It really did hit me like a train. Or perhaps something with a greater mass, such as a meteor. Whatever you want to call what had just happened to me. The sudden realization that I was in…that Dean was important to me. I wish I had another way to explain it that would express it better, but I can’t think of anything. For the first time since I had first entered my vessel I could hear its heart beating, or at least loud enough to notice it. It drummed in my head, thudded in my throat, every centimeter of me was suddenly pulsating, and I could feel it. I could feel everything.

“Did you find a towel? Bobby’s gonna kick your ass if he finds out you spilled beer on his couch, fair warning.”

The sound of his voice, just Dean’s voice a room away, felt like he was right there, talking into my ear. If I focused enough, I could hear him breathing. I retrieved the towel and went back into the living room, my feet feeling heavier than lead. I stopped halfway, realizing that I was swaying a bit, and steadied myself. It was Dean, just Dean. The same Dean as five minutes ago. The same Dean as all this time. I inhaled, exhaled, and inhaled again, walking around the corner to meet him.

“Here, I got it.”

He stood up and took the towel from me, beginning to do his best to rub the beer out of the couch and off the floor. I stayed as still as possible, not wanting to fall over as I almost had moments earlier.

“Go put this in the laundry, would ya?”

He stood back up and pulled his shirt down, extending his arm to me. He looked directly at me, directly into my eyes, and I was still frozen.

“Take it.”

“Take what?”

He shook the towel in his hand to draw my eyes to it.

“Right.”

I took it from him, and my hand brushed his again, for just a moment, but a moment was enough. The usually dark room suddenly brightened, and everything around me, every color, every speck of dust, was more vivid. There were two Red-Bellied Woodpeckers approximately 1.3 miles away, and I could hear every chirp they made. There was a small spot of mold in the upstairs bathroom behind the door that had been left untreated. Two streets over, a man grilled hamburgers for his family, but he used too much pepper. I saw everything, I heard everything. I looked up from my hand and realized that Dean was now in the kitchen, washing his hands and humming something. I peeked around the corner at him, being very careful that he didn’t notice me, and I was in awe. There was a scar on the tip of his left ear that was most likely the result of an injury during a case. The left sleeve of his shirt was just barely pushed up higher than his right. A tiny strip of his lower back peeked out from under his shirt when he leaned over the sink. I noticed how his shoulders and arms flexed slightly when he rubbed his hands together, being more thorough than usual in order to completely dispel the smell. I noticed the small cut on his jaw where he had clumsily nicked himself shaving. I even noticed that he had run out of his own body wash and was now using Sam’s, as much as he protested it. I noticed absolutely everything at once, and it was overwhelming. I carefully walked over to the table and sat down in a chair, trying to get ahold of myself once more.

Angels don’t experience love. That is what I was always told, that love was a purely human experience. Anna had fallen in order to experience love. I knew I hadn’t fallen, my Grace was still intact, but I didn’t understand why I was so strongly affected. I ran my fingers along the rough wood grain of the table. Things like this didn’t happen to angels. They just didn’t, and there was probably another ailment. Then Dean sat down, and I looked at him once more.

Freckles, and stubble, and light creases in his forehead, and chapped lips, and bright white teeth, and messy hair, and long eyelashes, and broad shoulders, and an Adam’s apple, and strong arms, and rough hands, and the rise and fall of his chest with every breath, and eyebrows furrowed in concern. Everything, all at once.

“Are you okay, Cas?”

“I am.”

I could barely speak, my vessel’s mouth suddenly very dry.

“Do you need something?”

“I…water.”

In an instant, he was up, getting a glass from the cabinet and filling it from the tap. Slightly faster than he would if the water were for himself. Slightly more concerned about me than usual.

“Uh, here you go.”

I took the glass from him and drank it in four big gulps, setting the glass back down gingerly on the table. My mouth continued to feel dry, but there was obviously nothing I could do about it.

“So what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I am alright.”

His voice even sounded clearer than usual. Deep and gruff, but not in a negative way. It  was just how his voice had always been. It was simply my first time noticing.

“Well, uh, I’m pretty tired, so I’m turning in. See you in the morning. I’m in the next room if you need me.”

I watched his lips as he talked, listened to his steps as he left, and cringed as his door closed. I was left alone in my jumbled thoughts for only a moment, as Bobby soon walked down the stairs.

“Hey Cas, you still awake?”

“I don’t sleep.”

He walked in front of me, and the effect was gone. The glowing, the brightness, it wasn’t present with Bobby, only with Dean.

“Right, forgot about that. But you usually go lie in bed and at least pretend to, ya know, go through the motions and all.”

“May I ask you something, Bobby?”

He sighed, and ran his hand down his face.

“I think I know where this is going. Yeah, go ahead.”

“Have you ever been in love?”

I watched him situate himself in his chair, and he suddenly looked slightly uncomfortable.

“Yes. I have, actually.”

“What was it like?”

“It was rainbows and unicorns, okay? What do you want me to say? It was love.”

“Did you feel different?”

“Different how, boy?”

“As if every sense is…heightened. Like the world around you suddenly became clearer?”

“How poetic.”

“I am speaking seriously. I could hear birds a mile away.”

“And you couldn’t before?”

“No.”

“Hm. Well I don’t know anything about that.”

“Do you think that’s what has done this to me? Love?”

“When you three idjits come to me for questions, they generally involve demons and monsters, not angels and their cutesy little crushes. How exactly do you expect me to know?”

“I just assumed. You are very wise.”

“Well I appreciate the sentiment, puppy eyes, but I don’t know what to tell ya. Maybe it is.”

“I was told angels didn’t fall in love.”

“You were told a lot of things by those higher-in-command assholes, and how much of that was true?”

“I…well.”

“Maybe, just maybe, they tell you things to keep you out of the know, so you don’t disobey. Misinformation to keep you from asking questions, ya understand?”

“Yes, I do.”

“I don’t really know much about the personal lives of angels, because there isn’t much lore on ‘em, and I ain’t exactly got time to care, but hey. You never know. Maybe angels can fall in love. You ever been angry?”

“Yes?”

“Ever been sad?”

“I suppose so.”

“So maybe you can. It’s uh…who is it again, remind me.”

“Dean Winchester.”

“Yeah, just making sure.”

He looked at me then with a sense of pity, and I couldn’t understand why.

“Be careful.”

“Why?”

“Just…be careful.”

Bobby stood from the table and started to leave, doubling back to get a bag of potato chips from the pantry that I assumed he had come down for in the first place. He stopped to look at me one last time, again, with pity, and left.

I was still trying to absorb what was happening to me. Could Bobby be right? Maybe I was lied to, maybe angels could experience love. Maybe that was exactly what this was. Maybe this is how angels experience it. I wanted answers, and it gnawed at me for hours. When the sun finally started to rise, I made a decision. I needed help about this, the help of an angel, obviously.

I needed to find Gabriel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this chapter is a full day late, something came up yesterday and I was too busy to write. Hope you guys like the chapter!  
> Be sure to leave feedback, you know us writers and our constant encouragement.  
> Also, if you guys have a Tumblr, my url is jimmyyesvak.tumblr.com Follow me, then send me an ask that you read Trying. I'll tag you in a post whenever a new chapter comes up. Thank you again for the read!


	8. A Second Opinion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Right, no you are here for a reason. So what brings you to my little slice?”  
> “I need to know if I was lied to.”  
> “At some point, probably. You’re gullible, and a pushover, so. There’s that.”

“Would you please tell your ladies to leave, I need to speak to you.”

“Hey, Cas, what’s up brother?”

Gabriel was peeking out from behind one of the many pulsating bodies that occupied his bed, and he gave me the same smile as every time we met. One that was too eager, and made me a little uncomfortable. I knew that Gabriel acted the same way around everyone, but it didn’t make a difference.

“They need to leave.”

“Aw, we were just getting started!”

“Gabriel.”

I took one hesitant step toward him, but he understood the gesture. The countless bodies plucked themselves from him, giggling and running into the next room. Some of them tried to catch my eye, or wink at me as they passed, but I ignored them. I closed the door behind them, and we were plunged into sudden silence. Finding him had been one problem, but finding him like this was different entirely.

It wasn’t an easy journey, by any means, and it took several days. I picked my way through the corners of heaven to find him, being especially careful not to attract the attention of any unwanted parties. After asking in many favors, I finally found him here, in what appeared to him as a ridiculously lavish hotel room at the top of the Eiffel Tower. The entire room was decorated in gold fabrics, expensive paintings, and other various things. Every single table had a display of sugary foods on them, arranged in different colors and combinations. He was sat in his bed in a silk robe, which he was then tying up to cover himself. I wasn’t surprised to see his state, but I was disappointed. Gabriel had always been the least obedient, the closest to human. Then again, I was there for help with the same problem.

Gabriel sat up in the bed and fixed his shirt, patting the spot on the bed next to him, motioning for me to sit down. I was extremely hesitant to do so.

“Aw, c’mon, I don’t bite.”

Reluctantly, I took his offer and sat.

“How ya been?”

“I have been alright.”

“Good, glad to hear it. Still haven’t removed the giant rod from your ass though, I see.”

“Gabriel, please.”

“Right, no you are here for a reason. So what brings you to my little slice?”

“I need to know if I was lied to.”

“At some point, probably. You’re gullible, and a pushover, so. There’s that.”

“No. I mean…by our superiors.”

“Oh. Oh…”

He achieved seriousness almost instantly.

“Well, I shouldn’t be the one to tell you this, really. But, uh. Yeah.”

“Oh.”

“And that sucks, but you get past it. I did. But that’s the glorious thing about rebellion, my brother, no secrets. They don’t own us anymore.”

“Did they lie about emotions?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, can we experience them?”

“Absolutely. Becoming self-aware is kind of an adjustment, though. Once your brain is rewired to ignore command, the other blocks come off too. Some are prettier than others, I can tell you that much.”

“So can we fall in love? Is it possible?”

Every last defense he had left melted. I looked at his face, and I saw a mixture of anger, pain, and sadness. I looked at his face, and suddenly I couldn’t anymore, so I looked down to the floor.

“Yes. We can.”

I could tell that it hurt him to talk about it, and I was hit with a wave of guilt. It would have been best if I hadn’t come at all, I told myself.

“Come with me.”

He abruptly stood from the bed, and he wanted me to come with him. He approached the closed door, and took a deep breath. When he opened it, we weren’t in the hotel anymore.

“Sravasti, India, roundabout 3 B.C.”

It took me a minute to adjust to the sudden change in light and humidity. The air felt as though it was about to start raining, it was thick and almost difficult for my vessel to breathe. The difference between the bright fluorescent light of the hotel room to the almost pitch black night also hurt the vessels eyes, but he adjusted. Once I could see, I noticed that we were in the middle of a wide desert, and the only building was a small mud brick house, and there was a fire burning inside. I looked up, and every single star was visible, bright against the blackness. Gabriel looked at me, and in the low light, he almost looked pained. I followed him to the door of the house, and we walked inside.

The inside was warm and small, but not a stuffy warm like the outside. A small fire burned in the corner of the room, and was the only source of light. Smells of exotic foods and spices met me, and reminded me of the time I had spent in Iraq in my earlier days, helping reconstruct after one of the various civil wars. The room was decorated simply, but it felt lived in. I could tell that whoever lived here had been here for a long time, and didn’t plan on leaving anytime soon. I heard a faint humming from another room, and I looked up to see Gabriel walking through a curtain, so I followed him in. A familiar voice struck me almost instantly.

“Augh, be careful, would you? I’m a little tender, in case you hadn’t noticed”

Gabriel, amazingly in the same vessel as he had now, was laying on the floor of the hut, his face twisted in pain. Upon further inspection, I saw that his left side had been badly torn up by what seemed like some sort of vicious animal. There was a woman whose face I could not see cleaning his wound. Her clothing was very simple, long black hair cleanly braided down her back, and she appeared to be normal woman, but I noticed that her skin had a very faint blue tinge to it.

“I have almost finished.”

She turned around to get another bandage, and I finally caught a glimpse of her face. She was absolutely beautiful, and I wasn’t the only one to notice. Both past and present Gabriel were staring at her. Past Gabriel with lust, present Gabriel with sorrow.

“Are you gonna tell me your name, sweetie? Common courtesy and all.”

Gabriel has always been the way he is.

“Shhh, you need to rest.”

“No, I need you to tell me who you are.”

She turned to him and stared for a moment.

“Kali.”

Present Gabriel’s shoulders and head dropped noticeably, and if I didn’t know better, I would think he was weeping.

“Wait, Kali like, the god Kali? You can’t be serious. Either that, or your parents had a strange sense of humor.”

“Rest your head, stranger.”

She began humming something again, and past Gabriel laid his head down.

“How did you…do…that…”

“Finished. We can talk in the morning.”

She collected her things and started to stand, but he pulled at her gown to stop her.

“Come on…can’t you just…stay for a little….”

She reached down to him, and it seemed as though everything was happening in slow motion. The second her hand touched his cheek, he changed. His breathing became wild, pupils dilated, spine stiff as a tree. He blinked a few times, looked up at her, at everything around him. He was trying to say something, mouth forming words, but no noise came out. Her other hand met his chest, and he calmed slightly.

“Goodnight, Gabriel.”

She stood and left in one swift motion, moving the air around her as she left. Both Gabriel’s watched her go breathlessly. Past Gabriel laid his head back down, and quickly fell asleep.

“Do you see now?”

He startled me a little with his speech, due to the fact that he had remained silent the entire time.

“It was Kali?”

“Yeah, a really, really long time ago. She was mine.”

“Your what?”

“She is the one I latched on to, so to speak.”

“So, you also-“

“Bright colors, hypersensitivity to smells and sounds, yeah. It happened to me. With her. As far as I understand, it happens with all of us. Just one, though. There is only one.”

“Does that mean that Dean Winchester…”

“I think so. Wrangled yourself a little muttonhead. Lucky you.”

“Why did you separate from her, if she was your one?”

“It was kind of a tricky situation. We had to, or we both would have died. A story for another time.”

He snapped his fingers, and we were back in the hotel again. Gabriel sat back down on his bed, a cupcake appearing in his hand.

“It’s tough, but it is what it is.”

“I don’t know what to do now.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know. Are you kidding?”

“Dean Winchester is a human, Gabriel. He could…”

“Die? Yeah. Trust me, I know. That’s the tough part. But you have until he dies.”

“To do what? What am I expected to do with this? This…thing I am experiencing.”

He stood up and walked over to me, putting the cupcake in my hand.

“Well, here’s what you don’t do. You don’t let him die. You don’t let any of his little buddies die, because it has the same affect. You don’t run away. You don’t hurt him, or let him be hurt, or do anything to make him mad at you. And most importantly, you don’t stand here and keep talking to me.”

“O-okay.”

He placed each of his hands on my shoulders, and shook me gently.

“You go get your little muttonhead, and you guard him with your life, because trust me, you’re gonna have to. You give him everything he needs, and some things he doesn’t. You go back there, and you love him. That’s all you can do.”

He took the cupcake from me, ate a bite, and turned to walk away.

“Later, brother!”

Before I could say anything, he snapped his fingers, and I was back at Bobby’s house. More specifically, in the bathroom at Bobby’s house. More specifically, in the bathroom at Bobby’s house where Dean stood at the sink, shaving his chin, glowing like a beacon.

“Dude. Do you mind?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys like the chapter!  
> Be sure to leave feedback, you know us writers and our constant encouragement.  
> (p.s., Kali's skin being slightly blue was intentional, and yes, I know that wasn't on the show.)  
> Also, if you guys have a Tumblr, my url is jimmyyesvak.tumblr.com Follow me, then send me an ask that you read Trying. I'll tag you in a post whenever a new chapter comes up. Thank you again for the read!


	9. Ignite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You would think that, after years of observing the human race, that I would be able to understand them. I’ve seen everything, almost every moment of history since the beginning of man. They still confuse me as much as they did the moment I encountered them, if not more so."

You would think that, after years of observing the human race, that I would be able to understand them. I’ve seen everything, almost every moment of history since the beginning of man. They still confuse me as much as they did the moment I encountered them, if not more so.

I met one of the first humans, hardly classifiable as a human, and he was wounded. Some sort of beast had attacked him as he was hunting, and I happened to be in the general vicinity, so I thought I would heal him. I inferred that he most likely had a family to provide for, things such as that have always existed, but it was more extreme in those times. If he had died, many others would have died as well.

I approached him, and he looked scared, genuinely scared of me. I tried to explain to him in various languages that I was trying to help him, but he apparently did not understand. I reached forward and placed my hand on him, instantly fixing the deep gash in his side. For one moment, a look of something I can only describe as gratefulness passed over his face. In the next moment, he slashed me with his spear, and ran away into the woods. I fought to understand why he tried to hurt me, when I was only attempting to help him. He ran from my touch, turned and ran when I helped him.

I believe that this is a trait that was passed down throughout time, because man still experiences it today, for some reason. Fleeing from what cares for us.

The transition was very gradual, losing the glow. Over a matter of a few weeks, actually. When I spent extended periods of time away from Dean Winchester, the glow would fade, and be a million times stronger when we met again, almost blindingly so. Every time this happened, it occurred in shorter and shorter bursts. Bright glow for an hour, then half an hour, then gradually down until it was a vague flash. That was the first thing I noticed.

The second thing I noticed was that my hypersensitivity to sound and smell began to weaken. This actually took much longer, about 12 days if I had to estimate an approximate time frame. Slowly, my hearing would stretch less and less, or become weaker and more strained. It wasn’t a problem for me, because I understood. That immediate feeling, the first contact, couldn’t last forever. Nothing pleasant ever does.

Over the period of these few weeks, Dean seemed to notice a change in me. This meant for him, unsurprisingly, that the best solution would be to avoid me, as to not cause any trouble, as not to make me stray from the initial goal more than I already did. It stung a bit that it was unintentional, and he probably didn’t notice himself do it, but it was still there. Dean turned a subconscious cold shoulder to me, and it stung. That lasted for a while.

Sam appeared to notice this as well, and he seemed distraught. If anything, he was on my side in the matter. He threw me pitying looks when Dean asked me to sit in back, or when he barked orders at me a little gruffer than usual. Sam noticed, of course he noticed. I vaguely envied the connection he had with his brother, being able to read him as well as he did. I am moderately sure that Sam had something to do with the day that something switched in Dean.

It happened within a moment, and I of course noticed immediately. It was subtle, of course, but he didn’t avoid me anymore. He hovered around me, stood close even if he didn’t need to. This brought a small part of the glow back, a little bit of the hypersensitivity, when I put it together. Dean had realized that he was avoiding me, consciously at last, and was making up for lost time. He still didn’t physically touch me, as he had that first night, a purely impractical touch for a long period of time, and that was okay. I knew that he didn’t really mean to, that it just happened.

I almost fell to my knees when he finally did.

It was nothing, really, to people outside of us two. But it was the same, exactly the same as it had been the first night. He had walked past me, brushing past my arm, but I knew it was intentional. I felt his pinky very slowly trace from the pinky my right hand, up and past my wrist, all the way to my elbow, before breaking the contact and continuing to walk. The moment struck me, and as I pieced the clues together, it deepened. Yes, it was intentional. No, I wasn’t mistaken. Yes, he was looking for my reaction. Yes, he was smiling slightly with the corners of his mouth. The buzzing inside me began again, the pulse in my ears, lump in my throat. I turned, and it felt like we were suspended in water, the two of us. He was finally glowing again in earnest, colors vivid again, and I had forgotten how much I had missed that. It didn’t blind me like it had before, comparable to walking out into the sunlight and waiting for your eyes to adjust, brace yourself against the assault. It was comfortable, and it was warm. I wanted him to do it again, or allow me to do it to him, or be close to him, or to hold him. His eyes met mine for a fleeting moment, reading me as much as I was reading him, and he left.

I felt hollow when he left, but not painfully so. It was at the point where I wanted to chase after him to feel it again, not because I needed it. I realized then that we were slowly reaching a comfortable medium, where it didn’t feel wonderful, but it didn’t ache either.

I decided that the next move needed to be mine.

It wasn’t planned, actually. There was a feeling in the back of my mind, telling me I should close the distance, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to plan it, because then I would be too afraid and decide not to. I knew that it had to be unscripted in order to be real. The moment came, and I dove.

He was standing just outside the door with a beer in his hand, unloading from the day. I could almost see the physical weight this case had put on him, now that there were more deaths. I watched him hurt, and I wanted to help. The door was open, and I was standing in it, and a single step, and I was there, my face buried in his strong back. I expected him to be startled, but he didn’t flinch, didn’t tense up at all. I very gingerly wrapped my hands around his biceps, and stood like that for a single fleeting moment, breathing him in, listening to his heartbeat quicken slightly. It lasted a moment, and it glowed. We were both glowing, connected like that. Every nerve ending ignited, and I can only describe the feeling as indescribable.

I let go, and slowly took one semi step away from him. He turned to me, grinning from ear to ear. Pulsating, beating, gasping, buzzing. It was all I could focus on. It was wonderful, until it stopped.

Until he suddenly was washed over with a look of fear and loathing. Until he looked angry with me. He took a heavy step to the side of me, and walked back inside, leaving me out on the back porch. I waited for him to come back and apologize, to come back and hold me, and he never did. I finally re-entered the house, expecting him to treat me coldly, but he didn’t. Everything about him was neutral, and he spoke and acted around me the way he had before all of this. It had happened, but it hadn’t, really.

A few days passed with no change. The glow came and went sporadically now. Every piece of data that I had based my definition of it on was suddenly void, every pattern I formed in my head broken. Moments where he shone like the sun, moments where he didn’t shine at all. I hated it, truly, truly hated it. But there was nothing I could do. I had obviously crossed some sort of line, and this thing within me knew it. But, as I have learned, nothing lasts forever. Even the bad things.

I was sitting on my bed, pondering things as I always do. Silent throughout the house, as always. Dean entered my room, in his night clothes, and sat down next to me. I tried to understand what was happening as he ran his hand through my hair, choked out a quiet ‘sorry’, laid down on my bed, sighed deeply. Ignited me again. I wanted to say something, and I knew I couldn’t. This one moment passed by in a flash, in contrast to the slow, walking through molasses ones before. A minute and seventeen seconds passed before he lifted himself up again, patted me gently twice on the shoulder, and left. A trail of light followed him, and this hollowness wasn’t as strong.

I understood now, what I had to do. Wait for him to come to me. Wait for him to feel things for me. Wait for him to ignite me.

I had nothing but time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys like the chapter!  
> Be sure to leave feedback, you know us writers and our constant encouragement.  
> Also, if you guys have a Tumblr, my url is jimmyyesvak.tumblr.com Follow me, then send me an ask that you read Trying. I'll tag you in a post whenever a new chapter comes up. Thank you again for the read!


	10. Hard-headed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Once Dean’s mind was set on something, it’s hard for him to change, even if the end result is better for him. His mind is always set on self-sacrifice. His mind is always set on being the first one in and last one out."

The next morning, I heard Dean once again moving throughout the house, doing what he does every morning. Sink running to brush his teeth, closet opening to find his clothing, refrigerator opening and closing to find breakfast. Every day was the same with Dean. Well, aside from the various monsters and demons he killed, those changed. But Dean himself, his habits, were constant. Everything about Dean as a person has been that way for years, and would continue to be that way. Besides, of course, when he walked into my room, handed me coffee, tousled my hair again, and chuckled a tired “Mornin’, Cas.”

That part was new.

I wasn’t complaining, but I had to admit that it caught me off guard every time he did it. It did feel more friendly around him. Pats on the back, picking lint from my tie, and the like. He was suddenly smiling more around me, which was surely a first. I found myself smiling back at him, and we reached equilibrium. At least it seemed that way.

None of the touches were more romantic, not one. Nothing like the first night I touched his hand, or how he had trailed his pinky up my arm as he walked past me. It was platonic, for a while.

We had found a lead on the Kalite case, discovered an ancient writing about their particular type of coven. Sam had been the one to find it, and he had run into the room yelling ‘Eureka!’ when he did. He and I were the only ones who found it amusing, and I laughed a bit with him. Bobby and Dean seemed unimpressed, likely due to all of the false positives we had gotten thus far.

“So, are we gonna get excited for this, or not?”

“For the record, Sam, I am excited.”

“Thank you, Cas. Anyone else?”

“Look, Sammy, it’s nothing personal. We’ve just come up with a lot of stuff that turned out useless, you know?”

“No, I’ve really got it this time.”

“Alright, boy, I’m listenin’. Whatcha got?”

“Caves.”

“Exciting! I’m gonna go take a nap.”

“Dean, the witches, they live in caves.”

“But we found their hideout a while back, and hey, it wasn’t a mansion or anything, but cave is a bit harsh.”

“That was a cover up, to throw us off. I found a diary entry from an old hunter, 1800’s. Listen to this. ‘I happened to stumble upon their cave by chance, I couldn’t believe my luck. I snuck in, held one of them down, and asked them about the purpose of the cabin in the woods. She replied that it was to throw hunters off their scent, make them walk in circles. They actually lived underground. I thanked her, and slit her throat with an iron blade.’ See, someone has been in the same situation as us! They live in caves!”

“Right, let’s just mosey on over to the nearest cave. Where is that, again?”

Sam was silent, and sat down next to me on the couch. Dean put his face in his hands, but Bobby looked interested.

“Well, there is the Tyson salt mine, hundred or so miles away. There’s a thought.”

Sam held his head high, smiling, clutching his book to his chest.

“Alright, let’s go.”

“But, and there is a but. Couple of teenagers were killed in it last year. Went in on a dare, didn’t come out. It’s crumbling. Rocks fell on ‘em from overhead.”

“So?”

“So, I been running from Death my whole life, I ain’t dyin’ from a chunk of rock in the skull, kid. It’s not safe.”

“Is anything we do safe? Really, Bobby, I’d like to know. We risk our lives every day. How is this any different?”

A dead silence hung in the air. I wished beyond anything that I could say something but I knew that it was not my place. Bobby and Dean gave each other angry looks from across the room, and Sam had retreated back to his books.

“You guys stay here, I’ll go.”

“Dean, do you honestly think that we are going to let you do that? Think about it.”

“Just recon work. See if we are even headed in the right direction. Silent, in and out in five minutes. We can regroup and go back tomorrow night.”

“We’re coming with you, boy. Don’t be foolish.”

“You’ll attract too much attention.”

“Really Dean? As if we don’t know what this is about. Just another suicide mission, right? Hoping that maybe, maybe this time you’ll actually die for good.”

“Get out.”

“Don’t you-“

“Get the hell out!”

Sam and Bobby quickly stood and left the room, leaving just me and Dean.

“Do I need to leave as well, Dean.”

He looked me over for a long moment and I waited for him to answer.

“You’re fine.”

“Okay.”

He got up and started preparing, putting on his boots and getting his jacket off of the hanger on the wall. He crossed the room to the refrigerator and took a few drinks of scotch directly from the bottle.

“Are you okay, Dean?”

He looked over to me, sadness in his eyes, and looked back down.

“Not really, Cas. To be honest, I’m not really okay at all.”

“Can I help?”

He came over and sat next to me on the couch, very close this time, on my hemisphere. He glowed like a beacon, and I wanted to help him, I wanted to hold him and tell him it would be okay. I understood my boundaries, and stayed still.

“Not really, man. This is something that’s kinda…I don’t know. Kinda inside me.”

“I think I understand.”

“That makes one of you.”

“I understand that you have to make sacrifices. Put yourself on the front line. It’s who you are, Dean. And even if Bobby and Sam may seem cross with you about it, I think, secretly, they admire it. It hurts for them to admit, but they know that you are brave. They know you do what you do to protect them. They appreciate what you do for them, Dean. I appreciate what you do for us.”

“Cas.”

Dean lifted his hand to my cheek, a suddenly intimate touch, compared to the ones I had received before. His eyes were filled with more sorrow than I have seen in a very long time. I wanted to help him. I concentrated on the points where his hand was touching me, and got rid of any pain that he had, minor back aches or healing wounds. He stared at me, and I returned the gaze. He was amazing, for such a broken man. So caring, so thoughtful. So beautiful. He glowed in every possible way, and my heart thudded in my chest again. Even more so in the moment that followed.

I saw everything in slow motion, his eyes blinking, chest rising and falling with each breath. Hand moving from my cheek, tracing along my cheekbone. Thumb brushing across my bottom lip gently. Eyes heavy, watching my lips, the way they parted beneath his finger. He leaned closer to me, barely closer, and his jaw tightened. A single heavy breath left him, smelling of alcohol, hamburgers, and Dean. I watched has he placed his forehead on mine, breathed my air and breached my space. His eyes were closed, and he was there, but not quite.

Every point where we touched disconnected, and he was off the couch and out the door before I knew what was happening. Bobby and Sam soon came downstairs and headed out the door as well. I followed them out without really knowing what was going on, still empty from the minute prior.

The drive was quiet, and unbelievably tense. Dean drove, and would not make eye contact with me. I sat in back with Sam, and Bobby napped in front seat. We eventually arrived, and I didn’t notice. Bobby and Dean argued, and I didn’t listen. Dean exited the car, slamming the door behind him, but I didn’t watch him go. The three of us left sat there, Bobby and Sam talking quietly about the case. I didn’t pay attention. I had no need too.

A good while later, a knock came at the window, from a bleeding and smiling Dean. Sam hastily unlocked the door and opened it.

“Well, they are there. We found them.”

“Yeah, never mind the huge gash in your arm.”

“Falling rock. It’s just a scratch.”

I watched him clench his teeth, obviously trying not to cry out. He was dirty, sweating and obviously in a lot of pain. Sam got in the drivers seat, and Dean slid next to me, never once looking at me.

 

 ~~~

 

"Is it really necessary to be a complete jerk constantly, Dean?"

"I don't need the freakin' angel touch, just get me home!"

 Thirty minutes had passed, I looked over to Dean, bloodied and broken next to me. Sam was in driving, hands gripped tightly on the wheel. Bobby remained in the passenger's seat, face in his hands. The atmosphere in the car was extremely angry, and I knew that I was probably to blame. I spoke up again.

"If you would let me heal you, you would feel much-"

"No!"

"Listen here, princess. It's not every day you just happen to have an angel of the freakin' lord layin' around, so why don't you be smart about it?"

"Bobby, no. I'll be fine, I just need to get home."

"Sam, stop the car."

"Yes sir."

Sam sharply turned the wheel and we came to a halt at the side of the road. He pulled the keys out of the ignition, and we sat there in silence.

"Whenever you're ready to stop being an ass, boy."

"Bobby..."

"No, don't you Bobby me. What is it with you, huh? Don't take the help you are offered, because you think it’s gonna make you less of a man? Would you rather bleed out, because I think you got about two minutes until you start getting dizzy and pass out, or, would you be smart, and take the help that is given to you?"

An angry silence hung in the air, and I stayed quiet.

“Fine, go right ahead, Cas. Give me the magic fingers.”

Relieved, I placed my hand on him, and the wound healed in an instant, all traces of the gash and the blood completely gone. Dean groaned and leaned into the seat, letting his head fall back.

“Is that more comfortable, Dean.”

“Oh, yeah. Thank you. Whew.”

“See, was that so hard, ya idjit?”

Dean gave Bobby a sharp look, Bobby stuck his tongue out, and Sam chuckled slightly in the driver’s seat, returning the key to the ignition and starting the car again.

Once Dean’s mind was set on something, it’s hard for him to change, even if the end result is better for him. His mind is always set on self-sacrifice. His mind is always set on being the first one in and last one out.

And maybe his mind is set on keeping himself from me. If that was true, this wasn’t going to work. Every sign I had been given was wrong. Dean convinced himself not to want me. So he wouldn’t.

Dean had decided he didn’t want me, and he doesn’t change his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys like the chapter! I'm really sorry that it's a couple of hours late, I'm in the middle of moving, and I had to pack my garage today. If it helps, this chapter is a little longer???  
> Be sure to leave feedback, you know us writers and our constant encouragement.  
> Also, if you guys have a Tumblr, my url is jimmyyesvak.tumblr.com Follow me, then send me an ask that you read Trying. I'll tag you in a post whenever a new chapter comes up. Thank you again for the read!


	11. An Entrance And An Exit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Because I was almost sure that somewhere within him, there was a Dean who cared about me in that way. It was a matter of holding my breath until he surfaced. What a great game that was."

I like to think that I was relatively patient throughout the entire ordeal, and that anybody else with less patience would have lost their mind by then. Every single time that Dean has almost embraced me, almost said something, and then ran away, I have been graceful. For example, the night of the cave incident, Dean almost held my hand in the backseat of the Impala, but pulled away, and I was not angry. The next morning, when I checked on his wound to see if I had done okay, when he pulled me into a half second embrace and then stomped off, I was not hurt. I was learning that this was simply how Dean dealt with things of this nature, and that I just had to give him time. Show him patience and understanding. Because I was almost sure that somewhere within him, there was a Dean who cared about me in that way. It was a matter of holding my breath until he surfaced. What a great game that was.

And that night he brought that thing home again, my lungs gave out.

I was perched on the couch, Dean next to me, but not close, in his hemisphere. And that was alright. He continuously glanced at the clock, at his watch, nervously awaiting something, I did not know what. Twenty minutes later, three sharp knocks at the door, and he was on his feet, grinning from ear to ear. He opened the door, gave a quick ‘hey’ to someone I could not see, and walked out, shutting the door behind him. After a minute, curiosity got the best of me, and I stood to peek through the window.

A semi-familiar form with big lips painted red. Pale skin in a black dress, hardly long enough to call a dress. Long batting eyelashes caked in black gunk. Talking animatedly to Dean, my Dean, stay away from my Dean. She noticed me, and winked. That same woman, that same rat Dean had picked up in the bar had crawled its way back into his life somehow. Floppy arms draped around his neck, his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. She was with him, but she was watching me. Watching my reaction as she dragged her hand down his chest, as she stroked his face, as she seduced Dean, my Dean, stay away from my Dean. They were almost intertwined now, lips inches from his. I was at an angle where I could see him smile, just slightly, head ducked down and so agonizingly close to this unwanted stranger. I could see him giving in to her willingly, and I backed away. I couldn’t watch her claim Dean, my Dean, stay away from my Dean.

I swayed, suddenly dizzy, and left the room. I heard Sam call my name from the kitchen as I stomped up the stairs, but I wouldn’t turn and acknowledge him. I fled to my room like a child and threw a tantrum. I was not sorry, I was not ashamed. He had told me that I was just a baby in a trench coat, and I was simply fulfilling that. I let all the anger and jealously and hate and disgust fill me, rip through me like bullets and propel me around the room. I ripped apart pillows, grabbing fistfuls of the feathers inside of them, throwing them across the room. I flipped the bed over, landing with a dull thud against the wall. I broke lamps and ripped at carpet, scratched walls with my bare hands and then punched through them. Arms were suddenly around me, keeping me from destroying anything else. His voice came as a monotone whisper.

“Cas, it’s going to be alright. I know, Cas. It’s okay, you’re okay.”

I flung Sam from me, and he stumbled back and into a wall.

“Cas, please, just listen to me.”

My voice came out as a choked growl, and it scared even me.

“It is in your best interest to stay very far from me.”

“Cas, please let me help you.”

“Dean Winchester is…I have one. Just one, Sam. It’s not like humans, where you can decide that if you don’t love someone anymore, you can just leave, just get a divorce, and just separate yourself from them. I have just one. Angels have just one. And he is my one. But he would choose that rat over me in a heartbeat. And he would ignore everything inside him telling him that he wants me, for her. Every almost embrace; every single almost drives another nail in the coffin. He made it clear tonight, he doesn’t want me. Why would he want me? I don’t have womanly curves, or large breasts for him to gawk at. I don’t put on makeup, or wear dresses. I can’t sing or dance, I’m not funny. I’m not attractive. I don’t have any special attributes that sets me aside from everyone. I don’t act the way people act at all. I’ve got nothing to offer. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

The weight of it all hit me, and I felt myself slowly sink into the pile of feathers at my feet.

“I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Sam rushed over to me, and held me. Didn’t ask, didn’t hesitate, just rushed over and held me. I wanted to push him away, but I felt safe. I felt genuinely safe in this fragile mortal’s arms. I had watched Sam break many times. I had watched him be human, be imperfect, but he was here, and he was warm, and I was safe. And I was going to be okay.

“Just trust me when I tell you that it’s going to be alright. You just gotta…”

He was as clueless as me. He didn’t know what to say, so he held me tighter. I sunk into him, my wings carefully wrapping around him instinctively, invisible to him of course.

“…gotta hang in there.”

“Hang on to what? What do I have to live for, if not for him?

“Oh. God, Cas…”

I stood and placed my hand on each thing I had broken. Fixing my mistakes, yet again.”

“I live to serve him and you. I rebelled against heaven. I went against everything I have ever believed in for him.”

Sam looked hurt, yet again.

“I think that maybe I was created for him. Created to save him, protect him, that was the end goal. That’s how this story would always go, no matter what we did. It was always supposed to end like that. But you can’t protect someone who doesn’t want you to. You can’t love someone who doesn’t want you to.”

Everything was fixed now, except nothing at all.

“Thank you for the comfort, Sam. I appreciate the help. I think I should just go for a little while. Just tonight.”

“You’re going to be okay, right Cas?”

For the first time since consciousness, I cried. I stood there in front of a human, weaker than him, and cried.

“Yes. I think so.”

“Okay. Uh, go. I’ll make something up if anyone asks.”

“Thank you, Samuel.”

He took me in one last embrace, and then stood back. I disappeared from the bedroom and found myself far away from that place.

 

~~~

 

I found this place centuries ago, and claimed it as mine, in a sense. It was an open place in Antarctica, still amazingly untouched by man. I turned and looked around me, finding nothing. In every direction, there was only flat land. No plant life, no wildlife. No houses or buildings or parks. I looked, and only found this expanse of ice. This is where I went to get away.

This place was better than any heaven. Better than any other place on earth because it is fully and completely empty. No sound whatsoever, no distractions. It’s you, the ground, the icy air, and your thoughts for a hundred miles in every direction. I had often needed a place to be to think, and this was it. This was my place, and nothing could take it from me

The sun was beginning to set, and I stood and watched it. Every breath was so cold that it stung, but it felt good, it felt real. It felt alive. It eventually began to get dark, so I sat down. I sat just as I had sat down outside the place of Jesus’ birth the day before Mary and Joseph arrived. Just as I had sat as I watched the meteor hit the earth from a continent away. Just as I had sat next to Dean on the grass, watching a hospital burn as I told him how I felt for the first and only time. But here, everything was quiet. My previous anger and frustration slowly melted into pain, into a dull ache at the center of my chest. I breathed the frozen air in, then out, and that helped. I focused on it, each inhale and exhale. Paid careful attention to the steady rhythm I had created. I paid attention to the dull cold burn in my vessel's lungs. It didn’t solve anything, but it numbed me.

Numbness was the closest thing to relief I could get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys like the chapter! I'm kinda making up for being so late last time.  
> Be sure to leave feedback, you know us writers and our constant encouragement.  
> Also, if you guys have a Tumblr, my url is jimmyyesvak.tumblr.com Follow me, then send me an ask that you read Trying. I'll tag you in a post whenever a new chapter comes up. Thank you again for the read!  
> (p.s. wow have a completely irrelevant side note: the Antarctica type place that Cas goes to is actually a dream I had once, and it is actually a sort of "happy place" I go to in bad times, as Cas does here. Description is 100% accurate of how it is in my head.)  
> (p.p.s hi emily!!!)


	12. Walls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He’s not gonna hurt you, okay? I’m fairly sure he loves you.”  
> “No he doesn’t.”  
> “Dean.”  
> “If he does, he’s a damn fool.”  
> “Why do you have to be like this? Why can’t you accept that maybe you have a good thing in your life?”

After a few hours of sitting in the same place, eyes wide open, I drifted into sort of a mindless trance. This happens every once in a while, and it’s the closest I’ve ever been to sleeping. It’s extremely peaceful, and that was one of the only places I could achieve it. Complete dark, no distracting noises. I sometimes wish I could sleep, have the feeling of a full night’s rest, but I can’t.

“What’s shakin’, lover boy?”

I was on my feet and choking the person who had spoken behind me before they could take another breath. It took me a moment to see that it was just Gabriel.

“What are you doing here?”

“I was in town, thought I’d drop by.”

“Gabriel.”

“Ah, fine. I went by Singer’s place to check on you, Sam said you were out. Kid can’t hide an emotion to save his life, and I could tell he was worried about you. I pieced the rest together, and figured out that you were here.”

“How did you know about this place?”

“How could I not? Okay, so whenever you were upset about something, you would come here to mope like a sad little teenager. You’ve come here for centuries, and I’ve noticed. Like when Michael threw a hissy fit right after Rome fell, and you ran? I know you ran here. I used to come and check on you, and that’s also kinda what I’m doing right now.”

“Why does my well being concern you, Gabriel, don’t you have cake to eat and innocent human women to fornicate with?”

It came out sharper than I intended, but he bounced back.

“Because you’re my brother, and I’m gonna look out for you.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“I don’t care.”

“I’m alright.”

“No, you aren’t, and I’m about 200% sure that it has to do with your little muttonhead, am I right?”

“It’s impossible to be 200% sure. The highest-“

“Can it, buttmunch, we aren’t here to talk numbers. What happened with Dean?”

“He…he doesn’t.”

“Are you sure?”

Well, not really. I really didn’t know for sure

“Yes.”

“How do you know?”

“There’s someone else. A woman. A rat.”

“Same one?”

“Yes.”

“Identity crisis.”

“What?”

“Sit down.”

So I sat, and he sat with me, facing me. It was odd to see him be this serious about something. He still wasn’t completely serious, but it was a huge step forward, especially for him.

“You see, on Earth, once upon a time, a whole bunch of people got together and decided that it was wrong for a man to love a man, or a woman to love a woman.”

“Why?”

“Hell if I know.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, and so sometimes, not always, but sometimes, it’s frowned upon to be in a same-gender relationship. A lot of people are okay with it. But a lot of people aren’t. A lot of people make the same-gender relationship people feel shitty about themselves for being the way they are.”

“Why?”

“Again, hell if I know. Anyways, sometimes a woman will love a woman, or a man will love a man, but they keep it a secret because they are afraid of what other people will think. I think that’s what’s going on with Dean. He doesn’t actually like the rat so much, well maybe a little, but not as much as he likes you.”

“How can you tell.”

“I just can, okay. Stop interrupting. He’s with her because one, it makes it seem to other people like he only loves women, and two, because he doesn’t want to admit to himself that he could like men. It’s complicated, but it comforts him.”

“I don’t have a gender.”

“Yeah, but your vessel does. So he thinks of you as a man.”

“Oh.”

“So you got all that?”

“I think so. Do you really think he feels admiration towards me?”

“You really are clueless, aren’t you? The little touches, right? He almost holds your hand, then runs away? Stuff like that?”

“How did you…”

“I know how this works, okay. Does he, yes or no?”

“Yes, I guess he does.”

“Well, he wouldn’t if he didn’t feel any, whatever you call it, admiration for you. It means something, Castiel. It has a purpose. He’s obviously not handling the whole thing well, if he keeps bringing that bitch around. I’ll just take care of her.”

“Don’t.”

“What, is she or is she not a bitch?”

“I…I guess, but she doesn’t have to die.”

“Well, fine. So she’ll just leave. It’s handled.”

“But she’s not…”

“Dead? No, you great humanitarian. She’s just out of the way.”

“What if he finds another one?”

“Okay, you gotta get out of that mindset. He likes you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“So negative. You just have to trust me, okay? You just have to go back, breathe, have some damn faith for once, and let him figure himself out. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“What time does he wake up?”

“Nine a.m. local time.”

“I think you’re getting close.”

“Do I go?”

“Yes, you go. Have fun. Retrieve your muttonhead.”

“Gabriel?”

“What?”

“Thank you.”

“I’m not hugging you, if that’s what you’re asking.”

I managed to smile a little, and he left. I took one last look around me, one last deep breath, and returned to the house.

~~~

I exited my room and walked lightly down the stairs, not wanting to wake anyone. I saw that Dean and Sam were already standing in the kitchen, talking. I could tell right away that it was a heated discussion by the look on Sam’s face, but they were keeping quiet. I focused on hearing them, and moved forward a little more, still hidden behind part of a wall. They talked in hushed voices, but the tone of voice wasn’t quiet at all.

“Why are you getting so mad at me, Sam?”

“I’m not mad, I just…I feel bad for him, okay?”

“Feel bad for who, Cas?”

I shivered a little at how he said my name, agitated, but hopefully not directly at me.

“Obviously.”

“What did I do?”

“Dean, don’t play dumb.”

There was a moment of silence between them.

“I don’t even have to explain myself to you, Sam. You remember high school. You remember Thomas.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Then you know it was just a dumb phase.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“I was stupid, and I wasn’t being careful, and I was lonely. And I was freaking 17, Sam, I had urges for God’s sake.”

“I know.”

“And he…”

More silence.

“You don’t have to talk about it.”

“Point being, I was wrong. For a while, I thought I was…that way. But I’m not. End of discussion.”

“Then explain those things with Cas.”

“Explain what things? What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m not dumb, Dean. I notice.”

“I don’t know. What you’re talking about.”

“Dean, what is the point of lying to me? More importantly, to yourself?”

“I’m not freaking lying, Sam, can you just drop it?”

“You’re afraid.”

“I-“

“No, you’re afraid, and you know it. You’re afraid what people are gonna think. You’re afraid people are gonna find out, and they are gonna judge you. You’re afraid, and you don’t need to be. Times are changing, people are more understanding-“

“Sam.”

“-and open-minded than they were when we were in high school. Cas isn’t gonna…Thomas was a jerk, okay. Not everyone is like that. Not all guys are like that, okay? And I think you need to give Cas a little more credit. Look at it from his point of view. He has no clue in hell what he’s doing, this has obviously never happened to him before. What’s he supposed to think when you lean in to kiss him and then bolt out the door?”

“You-“

“Yes, I saw that, not the point. The point is, give the guy a break. He’s trying, okay? I can see that he is trying. And you should too.”

There was silence again, and some shuffling around.

“He’s not gonna hurt you, okay? I’m fairly sure he loves you.”

“No he doesn’t.”

“Dean.”

“If he does, he’s a damn fool.”

“Why do you have to be like this? Why can’t you accept that maybe you have a good thing in your life?”

“Because things like that don’t happen for us, Sam! I thought it would be that way with Thomas, and then he told fucking everyone, and I got the shit kicked out of me! Do you remember driving me to the hospital, Sam, cause I sure as hell do!”

“Things are different now. People are different.”

“Are they, really?!”

“Forget about everyone okay, please, for just a minute. What do you want?”

“Sam.”

“Tell me. Admit it to me. Admit it to yourself. What do you want?”

There was silence, and then a few footsteps behind me.

“Not polite to eavesdrop, boy.”

Bobby looked at me more coldly than I had ever experienced from him, and I turned and walked up the stairs, stopping halfway up.

“Keep going.”

I went all the way up to my bedroom and closed the door. I had to create a plan. I had to know for sure.

I had to break down all of his walls, or find some way to make him let me over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys like the chapter! I'm posting this one a day early because, as I've said before, I'm moving in about a week here, so I'm packing tomorrow. I would rather be early than late, ya dig?  
> Be sure to leave feedback, you know us writers and our constant encouragement.  
> Also, if you guys have a Tumblr, my url is jimmyyesvak.tumblr.com Follow me, then send me an ask that you read Trying. I'll tag you in a post whenever a new chapter comes up. Thank you again for the read!  
> Also also, sorry for the painfully generic chapter title. I'm running out of ideas.


	13. Hiding Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "At this point in my existence, I could probably handle anything. I just wanted answers. I wanted to be treated like one of them, not some lesser being that they needed to keep secrets from. I couldn’t tell if I was angry or upset, but I felt something. And that drove me to make my next move. That lump in my chest that seemed so much more man than angel drove me to take action. As much as everything and everyone around me was telling me to sit, I stood."

Patience wears thin in situations such as mine. I had tried being reasonable, but that lead to anger, which lead to sorrow, which led to confusion. I felt as though I was being torn in a million different directions by the people around me. By Bobby, who didn’t want me to hear what they were saying, who somehow took five different sides in the situation. By Sam, who was hurt by the way this ordeal affected me, and was helping on the sidelines, but I didn’t know how or why. By Gabriel, who had offered vague advice that I was sure was helpful in some sense, I just couldn’t see it clearly. By Dean, who was cold one moment, welcoming in another, and spiteful in the next. I was being dragged underfoot, always just inches away from finding out the truth, and it was maddening. Maybe everyone thought that it was best that I was blissfully ignorant, but there was nothing blissful about it. Whatever sour truth, whatever horrible reality, I could handle it. At this point in my existence, I could probably handle anything. I just wanted answers. I wanted to be treated like one of them, not some lesser being that they needed to keep secrets from. I couldn’t tell if I was angry or upset, but I felt something. And that drove me to make my next move. That lump in my chest that seemed so much more man than angel drove me to take action. As much as everything and everyone around me was telling me to sit, I stood.

It started rather innocently, my quest for answers. We sat at the table and drew up plans, Sam sitting close to me, Dean at the opposite end of the table, eyeing him and speaking without speaking, with Bobby in the middle, confused and annoyed. I sensed this tension immediately; put my work down, stood quickly, and nearly knocked over my chair.

“I need a glass of water.”

Everyone looked up at me, baffled, but Bobby spoke.

“Thanks for the announcement, sugar plum. Go right ahead, you have my permission.”

I left around the corner and poured myself water, straining to hear if they were talking. I carried the water over to the wall and stood silently against it. I could hear tiny murmurs, but only bits and pieces of sentences.

“…you’re the talker, you do it…”

“…need to be honest…”

“…can’t do that, what if he…”

The door quickly opened, and Bobby stood in front of me, obviously upset with my activities once again.

“Come here, kid.”

I followed him to the opposite side of the kitchen, and he yelled at me in a whisper.

“You got a thing for eavesdropping, don’t ya? What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”

I faltered for a moment. I didn’t want Bobby to be angry, but I also didn’t want him to know the full truth. I recognized the irony in that, and almost laughed. He stared at me with eyebrows furrowed, a mixture of frustrated and confused, and I spoke.

“I need answers.”

I thought I had been vague enough, but obviously I hadn’t. His face fell, and he knew exactly what I was talking about.

“Well, listening in on private conversations ain’t the right way to go about that. Maybe…”

He scratched arbitrarily at the back of his neck, trying to figure out how to water down his answer for me.

“Maybe you could try just asking him. Or just talking to him. And usually I would be against that, just ripping the band aid off quick when it comes to Dean, but this has gone on too long. And you can’t eavesdrop this way forever. One day he’s gonna catch you, and he’s gonna be pissed.”

“So I just…confront him about it.”

He hesitated for a moment, staring at me with that look of confusion and pity he always had.

“Yeah, I guess so. But obviously not right now. Wait until he’s alone, until the timing is better. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Sheesh, when did I become a marriage counselor? I’m praying for ya, bud. I gotta say, you’re a stronger man than me, I don’t think I could do it. Well, not man, but, you know.”

“No, I’m not Bobby.”

“Hell yeah you are! When I first told my wife I loved her, I stuttered, spilled orange soda all over the both of us, and then faceplanted into the puddle of it on the floor when I leaned down to clean it up. Do us both a favor and have a little more grace than me.”

He finally cracked a smile, and so did I. He patted me gently on the shoulder, and walked away. I counted to ten, then walked out behind him, sitting and resuming my work as if nothing had happened. Sam continued to eye Dean, Dean continued to pointedly ignore Sam, and Bobby continued to pointedly ignore all of us. I looked at Dean, caught his eye, and he almost smiled for a moment before looking back down and going back to his default straight face.

I knew I had to finally confront him, and it had to be that night.

 

~~~

 

I was foolish to think that it was going to be easy. To think that I would find a way to just walk up to him and blurt it all out. It wasn’t. Dean made it very clear that he was trying to stay near other people so I wouldn’t approach him. I found a moment in the late afternoon where he was by himself reading, and as I walked up, he called out for Sam to look at his book. That was one of the failed attempts.

Closer to nighttime, I decided to try again. This time, he wandered into Bobby’s room before I could get him alone. All of these attempts to get rid of me frustrated me, but did not work in trying to deter me. My moment came after the others went to bed, and I took it.

He was sitting on the couch, drinking a beer and watching football, as he almost always did. He saw me approach him out of the corner of his eye, and started to stand.

“Dean.”

He made eye contact with me for the first time since earlier that day. Watching him physically relax at the sight of me, hearing the small but noticeable exhale leave him, it gave me a new sense of confidence. I knew I had to do this. I knew the worst case scenario, and how truly awful it was. I didn’t want to think about it, didn’t even want to admit it to myself. But this helped to usher those thoughts to the back of my mind, and the best case scenario to the front. I knew that it was foolish, but maybe this would work. Maybe we could reach a point where he wasn’t actively ignoring me, actively running away. I had cornered him, and in any other situation, I would have been ashamed. My impatience, mixed with the way he almost smiled at me helped get rid of any shame.

“Hey, Cas.”

He began to glow again, for the first time in what felt like an eternity. It was a pulsating glow, faint, but warm. I knew that this was a good sign, so I took a step toward him. When he didn’t back away or change in demeanor, I took another.

“I need to speak to you.”

Dean reached into the neck hole of his shirt and scratched his left shoulder with his right hand.

“I know we do.”

I was a little lost about what to do next, since I had expected him to resist. Luckily, he spoke first.

“First of all, I am. I’m so sorry about…I’m sorry Cas.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.”

He looked deflated, saddened. I didn’t back down.

“You don’t have to be sorry, but you do have to be honest.”

Standing and setting his beer down, he crossed the room to me, until there was about a foot between us. His glow pulsated, and so did my head.

“I know. I’m trying. This is just really tough for me. I’ve been, uh. I’ve been through some stuff, and I don’t really know how to act now. My view on everything is kinda jacked up, you know?”

His eyes left mine, and he looked down. I watched him ever so gently take a step away from me. I didn’t know what to say, so I acted. I reached my hand out to his wrist, and he stopped dead. He still didn’t look at me, but he stopped.

“I know it’s difficult, Dean. And I can’t even fathom how you feel, I’ve never been in a situation like yours. I don’t know what happened to you, and I don’t need to. What I need…”

I took one tentative step toward him, and we were inches away. He glowed, and I thudded. I thundered and roared and thrashed.

“…is the truth.”

“Cas…”

“You know. You know these emotions that I have for you. Stating them out loud would be redundant. You know, but I don’t. And I’m confused, and I need to.”

I thought over what I had said, how confusing it probably was, but he seemed to understand. We stayed locked in our positions, my hand on his wrist.

“Please, Dean. A single moment of weakness between you and I. I’m not going to hurt you. I admire you, Dean Winchester.”

I flinched again at my choice of words, and I flinched when he embraced me. When he was unafraid and honest, holding me and curling himself around me. Head in the crook of my neck, uneven loud breaths against my vessel’s skin. Hands locked onto my coat, pulling him closer to me than I thought possible. My initial reaction was shock, but I allowed myself to melt into him. Allowed myself to inhale him and smell nothing but Dean. Allowed myself to close my eyes to block out the now overwhelming glow of him. Allowed myself to take in the sensory overload. I relished in it for a moment, then two. I realized that it couldn’t last, and I braced myself for the disconnect. I braced myself for Dean running away, because he always did. Braced myself, and it came.

He whispered something to me, something between a goodbye and an apology, and unfurled himself from me gradually. The hands on my back retreated. The heart against my chest separated. The head pressed to my shoulder left, and I was empty again. He put a foot of space between us, looked at me with a straight face, and slowly left, closing his bedroom door behind him.

After I got over the initial shock of it, I could think. I could notice that he didn’t run, that he didn’t look ashamed. I could simmer in the fact that that was the farthest advance I had gotten from him. I could understand that I didn’t have to settle for this. I could realize that I had to move on to my back up plan.

 

~~~

 

I perched on my bed and waited, counted seconds and milliseconds and nanoseconds. I paced and I stared at the fly on the ceiling, and I waited. And when I sure it was time, I went.

I checked Sam’s room first, to be sure that I wouldn’t be interrupted. He was asleep, curled in on himself, which was surprising and amusing for someone his size. Sam amazingly didn’t snore at all. The next room I went to was Bobby’s, and his sleeping patterns were even funnier. He laid sprawled out on his bed, arms and legs out, stomach up, snoring louder than any other human I had ever encountered. I tiptoed to Dean’s room, and the weight of what I was about to do hit me. He might be angry with me. He might feel as though I betrayed his trust. Every step was another ball and chain added to me, but I was past the point of caring. I knew what I was going to do, it was simply a matter of executing it. I opened his door carefully, and he was asleep, thankfully. He laid on his side, snoring slightly, a point between Sam’s silent breaths and Bobby’s thundering ones. I sat down in the corner of the room in a chair, and closed my eyes. I was unafraid. I was ready. I knew that I could get every answer I needed from this, and I hoped I would.

I closed my eyes, and focused, and entered Dean’s dream.

~~~

I didn’t waste time on the rest of the house, I knew where I needed to go. I was in Bobby’s room, and he was asleep. I saw that the end of the room was a black hole, a gap in the consciousness that Dean knew was there, but didn’t bother to physically fill in. I tiptoed through the house, finding many black holes as I went. Places that weren’t important to Dean. All of his focus was elsewhere.

In the living room.

Speaking to me.

I saw that it was the exact same as before, all of the movements, everything said. It was almost surreal, seeing myself in this way. I looked exactly the same, the house looked the same, and I did exactly the same things. I watched myself grab his wrist. I watched myself talk to him.

I watched Dean grab a fistful of my shirt and tie, and kiss me.

My heart sunk to my knees, and I watched. I watched him kiss this other version of me, slow, and deep, and I wanted to crawl out of my skin. I wanted to go to Antarctica. I wanted to run to him, or run away, I wasn’t sure. I watched myself kiss him back with the same intensity, if not more so. It was desperate, and honest, and wonderful. It was the answer I needed. It was the Dean that he was hiding. It was the Dean that I wanted. It was the way I wished it could be, right there in his dream. Dean wanted it too.

Dean finally separated from the other me, and he saw me out of the corner of his eye. Inhale. I crossed the room to him, watched him process. Exhale.

“Is…am I?”

“Dreaming. Yes.”

Inhale.

“Are you the real Cas?”

“Yes. Are you angry with me?”

He thought on it a moment, still trying to comprehend what was happening. Exhale.

“No, actually. I’m not. I think, uh. I think this is easier than telling you.”

Inhale, regain footing.

“I’m sorry that I. I entered your hiding place.”

“It’s okay.”

He cracked a smile. Exhale, relax shoulders.

“Can I wake up now?”

“Yes.”

Inhale. Exhale.

We were back in the room, and I was sitting back in the chair. It took him a moment to follow after me. He gasped in surprise when he did, and looked over at me. His tired brain took a second to process it, and I understood. He sat up and looked at me, without faltering.

“So. I guess this changes things, doesn’t it?”

Watch him glow. Watch him shine and glimmer. Hear the cars outside, smell Sam’s cologne rooms away. Inhale.

“Yes. I think it does.”

Meet a broken man, save his life, watch him save yours, try to help put his pieces back together, watch as he tries to put together yours, fall in love with him. Wonder what happens next.

Exhale.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys like the chapter! Right on time today!!!  
> ***an announcement***  
> As I have told you guys fifty times now, I'm moving. In a week exactly. Notice how this chapter was pretty long? Notice how it had a lot of meat and potatoes? Does it seem like I'm making up for something?  
> It's because I am.  
> Next chapter wont be for about a week, week and half depending on how slow the moving process is. So you guys get to stew in the cliffhanger. You are welcome. And hey, I post every three days, and that's a lot better than most fic writers can say.  
> Be sure to leave feedback, you know us writers and our constant encouragement.  
> Also, if you guys have a Tumblr, my url is jimmyyesvak.tumblr.com Follow me, then send me an ask that you read Trying. I'll tag you in a post whenever a new chapter comes up. Thank you again for the read!


	14. Point A

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Things had changed, and there was no hiding anymore. If he pulled away from me, it wasn’t because he was reluctant in wanting me to know the truth. We had already gotten past that. I knew now that he would pull away from me with fondness rather than insecurity or fear, and it warmed me like nothing else could. He warmed me like nothing else could. I felt myself dipping closer and closer to humanity, and I didn’t mind, for him. For him I would."

We sat there in a comfortable silence for a while. He stared down at his hands, taking a deep breath every few moments, which could mean a lot of different things. I hoped that he was thinking about what had just happened, allowing himself to take in the enormity of it. Dean had always been one to push things like this to the back of his mind. But now, since even there I could find him, maybe he would see that running away is pointless. I felt a minor sense of shame at the fact that it had come to this, but I think he understood. He understood that I was tired of side glances and crooked explanations, and in a sense, this was balance. A way for him to apologize for acting as he did. He sat in that bed and I sat in that chair and we had a quiet agreement between us.

I was stirred from my thoughts when he cleared his throat. I looked over to him, and he had a fond smile on his face, subtle as he always was with me. He was glowing again, bright and warm. I couldn’t keep myself from smiling as well, not holding it back as he was. I walked over and stood in front of him.

“We need to talk about what just happened.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the sound of the bedroom door opening behind me.

“Dean, you up? I need a…oh.”

I turned to look at Sam, shirtless and towering in the doorway. His hair was sticking up in at least a thousand different directions, and his face was flushed red from exertion, running I assumed.

“Were you in the middle of something, I’m really. Okay, so, I’ll just go to the store or something I guess, God I hope that...”

“What the hell do you want, Sam?”

“I need, you know. One. Or two.”

“Where are yours?”

“I ran out!”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, Dean, seriously. Sorry I didn’t keep you updated with the inventory.”

I decided to try and intervene.

“Um, sorry, but may I ask what-“

“Shut up, Cas.”

I looked over to Dean, who was giving the younger brother a mean look. Dean was standing up for me. I took note of that.

“Jesus, uh, try under the bathroom cabinet, I think? What’s the rush, Sammy, afraid you’re gonna deflate?”

Sam rolled his eyes and retreated to the bathroom. The familiar sounds of someone digging through the cabinet echoed through the room, and he returned with a small square packet. When he moved it, I saw that it was made out of some sort of reflective metal.

“Thanks, Dean, I owe you.”

“Nah, that’s alright, you keep it.”

“Yeah. I’ll try not to rip through it, you know. Might be a little small for…”

“You have three seconds to leave or I’ll kick your ass.”

Sam started to leave, but Dean called after him.

“Wait, Sam? Is she hot?”

Sam grinned and pulled a second square packet out of his pocket.

“You tell me.”

“Well alright. Have fun, you crazy kid. Gosh, they grow up so fast.”

The door closed behind him, and I looked back to Dean.

“What just-“

“Don’t worry about it.”

“A woman? But he was asleep.”

“Yeah, the chick from the gas station must have texted him back.”

“Oh. Anyways. So we needed to discuss some things.”

“Cas, I don’t think we should worry about this right now.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s late, and I’m tired, and a little in shock.”

“And afraid.”

His face fell immediately, and for a moment I thought he was angry. He may have been. I still am not sure. But the way he looked at me made me fear him. I knew that I shouldn’t that he was just a man, but…he wasn’t. I respected him, and in that moment, I feared him. It made me realize that maybe I had crossed some sort of line, or that I had said something I wasn’t supposed to. It wasn’t like before, in his dream, when he seemed okay with it. He had thought about it, and now he saw the wrong. Up until that moment, I had felt brave. I had felt as though I could take any criticism or comments he had to make about my activities. At that, all of that disappeared. I was knocked down a block, and I retreated back into my old mindset.

“That whole dream-walking thing? Not okay. The whole invasion of privacy thing doesn’t really fly with me. God, it’s the reason this type of thing was fucked up in the first place. What’s mine is mine, I think I’ve earned that.”

“I know, Dean. I’m sorry.”

“My head and what goes on in there, its freaking personal, alright? I shouldn’t have to spell that out for you, Cas. You probably saw some stuff, right?”

He shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, waiting for the answer.

“Yes.”

“Well…”

I held my breath for a moment.

“Is that what you want, Dean?”

He smiled up at me for a moment, breaking his demeanor for only a moment until it slid back into position. I imagined what made him this way. What terrible thing made him need to hold himself back as he was? I wondered how much someone could really break Dean, to the extent that he may never be fixed. I thought about this person, likely a living and breathing man, who was walking this earth. How fragile they were. How easily I could break them in return. I saw red for a moment, but I was able to calm down. I knew that Dean didn’t want that, didn’t want revenge. Didn’t want for me to get revenge for him. He wanted to go back to a time where he was never broken in the first place. Maybe he could have played his cards better and they would have never met. Maybe this wouldn’t be so hard.

“I don’t know.”

I watched this man, the strongest man I had ever known, sit weak in front of me. Confused and unsure, and I couldn’t help him at all. I couldn’t comfort him, hold him like I wanted to, because I knew that would trigger another set of memories that he suppressed. I had to stand there and watch him hurt, and that hurt me more than anything else ever could.

“That’s okay, Dean.”

Without thinking, I reached out to touch his shoulder, but stopped myself before I made contact, pulled my hand back like I had reached into a fire. It was too late; of course, the gesture had already been made. He stared up at me with bright green eyes, and smiled genuinely. My hand was being pulled from my side and wrapped around his neck, he was being lifted by arms that were not my own, and he held me in a tight embrace once again. It still felt as it did the very first time. The smell, the warmth, everything was identical. I knew he wouldn’t pull away this time, because of that unspoken agreement. Things had changed, and there was no hiding anymore. If he pulled away from me, it wasn’t because he was reluctant in wanting me to know the truth. We had already gotten past that. I knew now that he would pull away from me with fondness rather than insecurity or fear, and it warmed me like nothing else could. He warmed me like nothing else could. I felt myself dipping closer and closer to humanity, and I didn’t mind, for him. For him I would.

He held me for a long time before letting go and holding me on my shoulders. His eyes darted back and forth between mine, and he inhaled and exhaled sharply.

“This…hell, Cas. This feels right.”

This, he called it. Whatever this was.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not. I’m…”

“Okay?”

“Yes. I’m okay. And I’m getting better. But I need time, and I need honesty. I think you understand that.”

“Of course I do, Dean.”

“So it starts here. It starts today. I don’t know where it’s going, or how long it’s going to take, but we have to start somewhere, right?”

“Right.”

He let go of me, and held out his hand for me to shake.

“Let’s try this again, okay? Nice to meet you, I’m Dean.”

I was confused, but I went along with it, and shook his hand.

“Hello, I am Castiel.”

He chuckled and ran his hand through my hair, ruffling it as he went.

“You’re awesome, Cas, you know that?”

I smiled and shivered at the touch, as I almost always did.

“Not as awesome as you.”

He grabbed me into one last quick embrace, smelling the skin of my neck noticeably, and let me go, grabbing his jacket from the floor and turning to leave.

“Careful, Cas. I might just fall in…”

He looked me over once, chuckled, and left the room. I was tempted to follow him, but I was stuck in position. Fall in what, I wondered.

Whatever was going on, we had finally started it. We had stopped chasing each other in circles, wondering what meant what, what was friendly and what wasn’t. We were finally on the same page. We had reached a starting point, standing side by side. I had never been more ready.

Optimism, I think they call it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys like the chapter!  
> Again, sorry for being like a week late, but you know, moving. It went smoothly, minimal injuries. I missed writing this thing so much, it was insane!  
> Be sure to leave feedback, you know us writers and our constant encouragement.  
> Also, if you guys have a Tumblr, my url is jimmyyesvak.tumblr.com Follow me, then send me an ask that you read Trying. I'll tag you in a post whenever a new chapter comes up. Thank you again for the read!  
> (I'm also very excited about Sam's lady friend. Just you wait.)


	15. Not Built In A Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Until that moment, my orders were just orders: observe. The moment I saw that sunrise, I knew that this was important. That Earth was important. I watched that day open up in front of me, and a desire to learn the world spread through me. I still treasure the importance of a day."

I decided that it was best to let Dean sleep then, so I left and went to my room to sit. I listened to him go downstairs to get a glass of water, then back upstairs to his room. I thought I heard him call my name, but I wasn’t sure. Since he didn’t call again, I assumed that he was just curious if I was still present, rather than actually needing me there. It was fine with me.

I stared out of the window and watched dawn crawl out over the ground. Sunrises always fascinated me more than sunsets because I felt the openings were much more interesting that closings. It may seem foolish or poetic, but every sunrise I watched thrilled me just as the first one had. Until that moment, my orders were just orders: observe. The moment I saw that sunrise, I knew that this was important. That Earth was important. I watched that day open up in front of me, and a desire to learn the world spread through me. I still treasure the importance of a day. I thought about all that had happened in the past day, and how much space was covered within it. I now had everything that I needed laid out in front of me, I simply needed to be patient and let it fall into place, as everything always did. I knew that it would be okay, because it had to be. Optimism, I believe is the word for it.

As the morning began, I decided to go downstairs and wait for everyone else to wake up. I walked into the living room to find a woman sat down on the couch next to Sam. I noticed a few things about her right away, her eyes especially, green and gray. She was dwarfed next to Sam, but she had a stocky build, strong shoulders and hips. Her hair was short and curly, and it stuck up in many directions. I had the sudden urge to run over and fix it, but I remained where I was. The moment she saw me, she stood to greet me, which was surprising, but not unpleasant.

“Hey, Sam, who’s this?”

Sam stood and gestured toward me, a crooked smile on his face.

“This is our, uh, roommate, Castiel.”

She turned back to me and smiled fondly, pulling me into a tight hug.

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Castiel.”

“Dean calls me Cas.”

She raised an eyebrow at me then, smiling slightly. I couldn’t help but smile as well.

“I’m sure he does.”

At that moment, Dean stomped down the stairs loudly in his boots, fixing his gun as he went. When he saw the guest, he froze, trying to figure out how to explain himself. That singular gesture made the room glow again.

“I…we just…”

“It’s okay, honey…”

She looked at Sam and chuckled, pulling a finely crafted knife out of the sheath near her back pocket.

“Cut from the same cloth, it looks like. You must be Dean.”

“Wait, what?”

She returned her knife back to its case and walked over and hugged Dean as well. I saw Dean give Sam a questioning look over her shoulder, and Sam just laughed.

“I’m a hunter too. No need to get your asshole all puckered up.”

The look of shock on Dean’s face was almost laughable. She retreated and turned back to me.

“You aren’t human.”

“No, I am not.”

She jokingly placed her hands on her hips, leaning in close to my face and squinting at me. I noticed the tiny freckles on her nose and cheeks, similar to Dean’s.

“Pagan god of some sort?”

She sniffed my coat, but it was purely for dramatic effect.

“No.”

“Hmm…tough one. An angel, maybe?”

A tiny smile hinted at the corner of her lips, and I laughed.

“Yes, that is correct.”

“Wow, I’m getting out of practice. Usually get that kind of stuff first try.”

She stepped back from me, rocking on her heels, and smiled fully.

“I’m gonna go make breakfast, yeah? I’ll help myself to the kitchen, hope you don’t mind.”

The three of us watched as she left into the kitchen, humming as she went.

“Good job, Sam.”

Sam and I both looked to him in surprise.

“What, she seems nice enough.”

Dean shrugged and sat down on the couch. I placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder.

“I approve of her as well.”

As if on cue, she poked her head through the door, smiling from ear to ear.

“Bacon or sausage? Or both? Both seems good.”

Dean turned to us, giving a thumbs up and mouthing the words ‘she can stay’.

“Well, alright then. Oh, I’m Winsloe, by the way. Thanks for asking.”

She winked at Sam and walked back into the kitchen, singing to herself.

“She can stay. If she cooks, she can stay. And she hunts. And she’s a smartass. In a good way. A good smartass.”

“I’m glad you approve, Dean.”

“How did you two meet again?”

“Long time ago, when we visited Bobby once. Back when we were in high school. She and I had a thing, I guess, but it only lasted a week. Saw her the other day and I thought I would…”

Sam blushed noticeably, and Dean poked him in the ribs.

“You thought you would what, Sammy? Rekindle her flames?”

“Could you not?”

“Only because she’s awesome. If I didn’t like her, this would go on for a while. Damn, Cas, would you sit down? I’m not gonna bite ya.”

Sam gave both of us a look, but shrugged and walked into the kitchen to help Winsloe. I sat down on the couch next to him, in my own hemisphere of course. I thought about how everything had changed between us, but he didn’t treat me any differently. It didn’t bother me, but I wondered why it was this way. Why he couldn’t just talk about it. Why he couldn’t just do what he had dreamed the night before. I thought of this silently, and such was morning.

Winsloe stayed throughout the day, cooking and tidying as she went. When Bobby woke up, he was greeted with a handshake and a kiss on the cheek, which I took to be a strange combination. Where I expected Bobby to be taken aback, he acted as though nothing was wrong. The four of them sat around the table and talked about lore, Winsloe sharing what she had learned with them and vice versa. She also made us lunch, hamburgers with bacon, and it was hard to tell who was more pleased about it, Dean or myself. They talked and laughed and exchanged knowledge in a casual manner, and such was afternoon.

I hovered around Dean for most of the night, staying close and not saying much. I tried not to draw attention to myself in any way other than simply being present. All three of them seemed to be amazed by Winsloe, and I suppose I was as well. She had a certain charm that made her approachable, but also a quick wit. I stood and watched as they drank and arm wrestled and laughed. Eventually, they began to wind down and Bobby decided to share information about the case we were working about the Kalite coven. Winsloe explained that she had just gotten back into town from a case in Indiana, and asked if she could accompany us in any way. After some exchanged looks among them, they decided she could, which earned her a knuckle bump from Dean. Sam explained that he was tired, and Bobby said that Winsloe could stay as long as she wanted, so she and Sam retreated to their bedroom, and Bobby to his, leaving Dean and I alone, and such was night.

Throughout the day, Dean’s glow had come and gone lazily, not showing for especially long periods of time, but it did then. When he turned to me, glanced around the room and realized we were alone, and smiled. Then it radiated from his chest like the sun.

“You were kinda quiet today, Cas. Everything okay?”

“Yes, I was just giving  you time with the new visitor.”

“Man, she’s something, isn’t she.”

“Yes, she is very beautiful.”

His face fell into a panic in less than a second.

“No, Cas I don’t mean like that, well yeah, but not…”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not, I didn’t, her and Sam obviously, that’s not what I meant.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean she’s cool. She’s freaking awesome. But, you know.”

“What do I know?”

“I don’t, not in that way.”

“I see.”

“Yeah.”

Conversations between us were often like this, I noticed.

“Because I’m kind of in the process of working out this.”

“This what?”

“You. And I. Well not like that. Actually, yeah, like that. I guess it is like that, isn’t it.”

“You talk in circles, Dean Winchester.”

“Shut up, Cas.”

I took a step towards him, closing the distance between us.

“I don’t think I will, Dean Winchester.”

“Stop being so sassy, Cas.”

“Never, Dean Winchester.”

“You…”

I watched his eyes leave mine for a moment, just a singular moment, and dart to my mouth. Just that moment was enough for me.

“May I…”

“Huh?”

May I kiss you Dean, my head whispered. May I run my hands through your hair and trace your body with mine and learn you on a level that I couldn’t before, Dean? May I hold you and align my breathing with yours, Dean? May I tell you that I have allowed myself to put aside everything I was ever told to become closer to you, Dean? May I take you to dinner like the man takes the woman in television shows, Dean? May I hold an umbrella for you in the rain like in movies, Dean? May I sit with you and stare at the stars like they do in songs, Dean? May I?

“May I get past you, please?”

“I, sure, yeah.”

He looked confused, and I stepped past him and into the kitchen. I found something to busy myself with for a moment, and then went upstairs to my room. I accepted the progress that we had made, and that Dean was not one to be pushed. Because these past 24 hours had been very draining for the both of us. Because Rome was not built in a day, it was built over a much longer period of time. I needed to apply that common phrase to this situation. May I love you, Dean, I screamed internally.

Not yet, I replied. Eventually.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys like the chapter!  
> Four hours late, wonderful. Sorry sorry sorry................  
> Be sure to leave feedback, you know us writers and our constant encouragement.  
> Also, if you guys have a Tumblr, my url is jimmyyesvak.tumblr.com Follow me, then send me an ask that you read Trying. I'll tag you in a post whenever a new chapter comes up. Thank you again for the read!


	16. Ripping Open

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The next revelation that I had about Dean wasn’t a subtle one. Similar to the day that the glowing started, there was a moment when a switch was flipped within me. I still feel a minor sense of shame for this, but I know that what was happening to me could not be controlled. I knew then and I know now that it was very likely just a side effect of this new experience I was having."

The next revelation that I had about Dean wasn’t a subtle one. Similar to the day that the glowing started, there was a moment when a switch was flipped within me. I still feel a minor sense of shame for this, but I know that what was happening to me could not be controlled. I knew then and I know now that it was very likely just a side effect of this new experience I was having. I wished I could talk to Gabriel about it, but he was nowhere to be found at the time. If anyone would understand, he would. He would have all the answers. He would be able to explain why, on May 17th, which was a Friday; I exited myself and became something animalistic. It was silly, actually. All Dean did was touch my back briefly.

Briefly was enough.

It was innocent enough, really. I had noticed all that week that Dean had been closer to me than usual, dipping down into some habits he rarely visited. Long periods of uninterrupted eye contact, standing near me when he did not necessarily need to, and the like. I should have reacted positively to this, but I didn’t. I felt that it was simply a phase, that it would pass soon, and that I had no reasons to get my hopes up. There wasn’t a chance that Dean was conscious of what he was doing. When it came to Dean, I started to believe that anything that was too good to be true probably was. I silently brushed off all of the extra attention, not out of coldness, but out of fear of the alternative. Out of fear that it was temporary. Out of fear that if I reacted, he would slither back into his old ways.

Pessimism I believe is the word.

It had been a week since Winsloe’s arrival, and we had all become close to her almost instantly. She fit in with our dynamic almost perfectly, and had no trouble finding her role within the group, as a sort of makeshift caretaker. She was strong and rigid on the outside, but she did treat us the way a mother would treat a child, fixing dinners and exchanging hugs. She now took up semi-permanent residence in Bobby Singer’s house, because Bobby wouldn’t let her stay in motels if there was room for her here. She explained to us that even though she had lived in this town her entire life, she had never found a permanent place to live, so she paid for a hotel room month to month. It was quite obviously a sore subject for her, so we let it go after that. Dean showed a sort of sorrowful empathy towards her and her situation; I imagine they all could relate.

Her and Sam were inseparable, never more than a few inches from each other. Sam’s happiness when he was with her was genuine, and very noticeable. I often caught Dean and Bobby giving each other knowing looks when they witnessed Sam’s awe of her. He was entirely infatuated with this woman, and everyone noticed it. Their happiness created happiness for the rest of us, and it was the closest to blissful we had been in a while.

On that Friday, we all agreed that we had to infiltrate the mine where the Kalites were housed the next day; we had to plan, make final preparations. It was about noon when Dean approached me on the back porch as I was tinkering with the walkie talkies.

“That’s really cool, dude.”

I looked back at him, smiling and closing the door behind him. And glowing.

“What is?”

“That thing you’re doing.”

He gestured toward the radios, and I understood. Each of the five walkie talkies was open with the wiring exposed. As I moved my hand closer to them, the loud static noise quieted. When I moved my hand away, it started up again. He looked interested, and sat down next to me to get a closer look as I explained.

“Multi-dimensional wavelength of celestial intent.”

“Huh?”

“Wavelength, Dean.”

I placed my hands back on the radios, silencing them completely.

“I have a minor ability to alter the radio frequencies around the devices. It is involuntary, but I can.”

“Can you do that to other stuff?”

“Can I, consciously? No. Do I, yes.”

“Like  an EMF?”

“Yes, I suppose I do. But nothing larger than that. My vessel contains most of the wavelengths, just barely. What you are seeing is the little part that leaks out.”

“Remind me to never take you with us to a ghost hunt; you’ll mess with the signals.”

“If I had a stronger vessel, it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Would you ever change vessels? Wear another meat suit for a while?”

I looked over to him to try to gauge his reason for asking, but, as always, he was unreadable.

“I’ve thought about it, actually. If this interference was stronger or became problematic, it would be wise to. But I don’t think I will, not anytime soon at least.”

“Good, I kinda like this one.”

At the time, I was wearing a very thin cotton shirt, because my vessel had a habit of sweating profusely as the weather warmed up. Which could be one of many explinations to my reaction to the next event. Because I felt it so clearly through that layer of fabric, so much thinner than what I usually wore. I often wonder if my reaction would have been the same had I been wearing my trenchcoat. I was no longer looking at him, but rather down at the radio part in my hand. I could not see his reaction to my reaction, because my eyes slammed closed so quickly.

A beat after he made the comment about liking my vessel, a warmth touched my back, in the middle of my shoulder blades. A quarter of a nanosecond later I realized it was Dean’s hand. The hand pushed slightly against me, and moved down slowly to the small of my back, pulling my shirt lightly as it went. I felt myself arch slightly into it, heard the tiny gasp that came from inside of me, watched the tiny sparks of light behind my vessel’s eyes explode and collapse in on themselves. A small choked sound stuck at the back of my throat, and it began.

His hand still on my back, I slowly opened my eyes and looked over to him. He was giving me a strange look, but I didn’t care. I cared about how desirable Dean’s mouth looked parted in surprise the way it was. I cared about the mass of warmth on my back, and focused on it. I cared about the slightly beating veins that were showing in the side of Dean’s neck. I cared about his Adam’s apple, the perfect shape of it, and how I wanted to know what it felt like. I cared about what Dean’s bare chest probably looked like, and the exact appearance of his anti-possession tattoo when you were close to it. I cared about my curiosity about the taste of his skin and the roughness of his chin stubble in between shaves and the feel of the tiny, almost invisible hairs that covered his entire body. I cared about my instant need to be on him, under him, closer to him. I cared about my hunger for him that existed in a realm I hadn’t yet visited. I didn’t know what I would do if such a situation ever took place, what I would actually do to Dean if I had him, but I knew I wanted him. I knew I wanted him to rip me apart and breathe down my neck and kiss me like it was the only thing that could save me. When I got to the core of it, I just wanted.

I didn’t particularly care for what followed.

The realization that I couldn’t have that. Not now, and likely not ever. The hunger I felt was multiplied at that, and it burned. I burned to have come so close, and to have to turn away from everything I needed burned even more. It swam through me, this feeling of unsatisfied desires, and filled me with a mix between frustration and sadness. Put simply…lust.

“Cas?”

My mind worked through each millisecond of speech, and then eventually through a response.

“Yes?”

“Um.”

He let that hang in the air for a while, looking at me and panting, and that magnified it. That made it sink into my bones and build little homes in my molecules.

“I’ll leave you to your stuff.”

I sat numbly as he stood and walked away, his hand finally leaving me and following at his side. I did not look away, but instead stared at where he used to be just a moment ago. I sat there, and waited for the feeling to subside. It finally did, and I pushed that moment to the back of my mind, returning to my work.

I had never experienced anything like that before. I had heard about it, heard of this lust overtaking people and swallowing them whole. And now I had another painfully human emotion to add to the list of things I was experiencing. My blood boiled and my heart thumped and I wanted. I didn’t know what, but I wanted, and that was new for me. I was still unsure if I should embrace it or fear it.

But I immediately accepted that it wasn’t going anywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys like the chapter!  
> Late again, how surprising. (cookie for you if you can find the Loki reference!!!)  
> Be sure to leave feedback, you know us writers and our constant encouragement.  
> Also, if you guys have a Tumblr, my url is jimmyyesvak.tumblr.com Follow me, then send me an ask that you read Trying. I'll tag you in a post whenever a new chapter comes up. Thank you again for the read!


	17. Loose Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "These are the people I chose to surround myself with, and as much as they messed up, as broken and battered and strange as they were, they welcomed me. That’s all I really needed."

I stared at the radios in front of me again and thought about the enormity of this. These spikes of emotion that I have allowed to affect me so strongly didn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon. Jealousy, adoration, and most recently, lust. Part of me was horrified of this new reality that I was facing. Another part of me was filled with wonder, and a positive curiosity about the future. I had to accept the fact that this was going to happen whether I wanted it to or not. I wondered if Gabriel had experienced the same thing, if he had also experienced the full range of human emotion after meeting Kali. I knew that if I could find him and talk to him again, I would be able to form some sort of educated, reasonable opinion on the subject. There are times in my past that I wanted to be human, and times that I did not. The subject had come up on multiple occasions, to simply part from my grace and be a man. I thought about what I would be giving up, and about what I would be gaining. The choice was made for me at that time; I needed to remain an angel of the lord in order to protect these hunters. They could likely get along without me, but I didn’t want to take that risk. I couldn’t put Dean in a position where I couldn’t protect him, no matter how much he felt that he could protect himself. The obligation was instinct, and it never crossed my mind to question it. I had to do what was necessary to protect Dean and the people around him. That was the duty I subconsciously decided for myself, and I was fully content with it.

I entered the kitchen and was greeted with a kiss on the cheek and a slap on the behind from Winsloe, followed by a hug and a cup of coffee from Sam. I politely declined it, so he set it down on the counter. Bobby and Dean came in as well, Bobby with the newspaper, and Dean with a donut in his mouth, glasses of water in each hand. He tried to set all three things down on the counter at once, but spilled a large amount of water in the process. Cursing under his breath, he left to find towels to clean it up with, right as Bobby walked into the puddle and hit the ground on his back with a loud thud.

We rushed over to him to make sure he was okay, Sam immediately trying to lift him, Winsloe asking if he’s okay, and Dean running down the stairs to find out what the loud bang was. We all crowded around him, waiting for him to respond.

“Which one of you idjits spilled that water on the floor?”

Dean leaned in a little bit and cleared his throat.

“Um, Bobby it was me. I’m so so sorry, are you okay?”

“You know kid…I ought to beat you half to death.”

“He’s making jokes, he’s obviously fine.”

“Yeah, I’ll live. Don’t I always? But you’re cleaning the toilets today, you hear me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Damn, I’m getting to old for this crap. Someone get me an ice pack for my shattered ass, would ya?”

Winsloe stood and straightened herself.

“I’ll get it, Bobby. Does this kind of thing happen often?”

Sam helped Bobby to his feet and they both looked at each other.

“When you roll with us, yeah, kinda. My ass is definitely shattered.”

They all smiled fondly at Bobby, glad that the ordeal was over, and that he was okay. I looked around to all of them, and smiled. These are the people I chose to surround myself with, and as much as they messed up, as broken and battered and strange as they were, they welcomed me. That’s all I really needed.

We went about our morning business as usual, Dean cleaning toilets on the opposite side of the house, Sam and Winsloe crowded into each other and talking quietly. I noticed a small purple bruise on the side of Winsloe’s neck, and wondered what caused it. My thoughts were interrupted when Bobby called us into the living room.

“You’ll wanna see this.”

A news reporter on the screen sat at a desk with a piece of paper, as images of a fire flashed across the opposite side of the screen.

“An abandoned salt mine outside of town suspiciously caught fire with seemingly no cause. Authorities have confirmed that the mine was empty after they extinguished the last of the flames this morning. They did, however, find various books, but they were all too badly damaged to identify. As of now, we don’t know why the mine went up in flames, but we’ll keep you updated. Janet Lawson, KTCV news.”

Bobby turned off the television and looked at us.

“Well, that certainly puts a damper on things.”

“Was that the mine where the Kalites were?”

“Pretty sure.”

Dean stepped forward, putting his hands in his pockets.”

“They didn’t find any bodies, though. So why did they torch it?”

“Could be a couple of things. Probably knew we were coming for them somehow, torched all their stuff and ran.”

“How could they possibly know that?”

“Beats me. Point is, they are gone now. So, I guess this case is kinda done.”

“What do you mean, done? They killed people, Bobby. They need to be taken down.”

The sudden strong opinion from Winsloe took us slightly off guard, and I noticed that she was shaking slightly.

“Every lead we had, every plan to infiltrate, it’s all down the toilet now. We have nothing to go on. I suggest we just let this one go. If there are more deaths, or evidence that they came back, we can go from there, but as far as I see, we got zip to work with.”

“So they just escape to kill more people? That’s not okay.”

“Damn, Winsloe, when did you get all uppity about it? You’ve sounded pretty detached up until now.”

I watched her physically sink down into herself, shoulders slouching and head dropping slightly. She took a step back, getting closer to Sam.

“There was a coven I came across once, and they got away. Didn’t think much of it, hoped that they would pop back up, or that some other hunter would take care of it. They went on to wipe out an entire town in a single night while everyone was sleeping. Over a thousand people all killed systematically, one by one. If I had just tried a little harder, hadn’t have given up so quickly, they would all still be alive. Little babies all the way up to wrinkly old men, dead. Every last one. I could have stopped it, and I just let them go.”

I decided that it was time to intervene.

“Winsloe, you should not feel guilty for those deaths.”

“What makes you say that, Cas, huh? Do you know what it’s like to have the weight of a thousand lives on your back, every single day? Hearing them scream in their sleep, those children who were never even given a chance in live, slaughtered like cattle without even a flash of thought about it. Throats slit, laying in a pool or their own blood. From the second you wake up to the second you fall asleep, this burden that you can’t shake. It follows you everywhere. Even when you run away from the scene of the crime, it finds ways to eat you alive. You are abandoned, and you can’t share that weight with everyone. You have to keep your damn mouth shut, despite everything. Keeping my mouth shut cost me all those lives. Keeping my mouth shut cost me my entire family too, everyone I ever loved. And now I do this, and it makes up for it a little bit, but not if I don’t follow through. When I start a hunt, with god as my witness, I finish it. Loose ends cost lives, Cas. Take it from someone who knows.”

We all stood there in awe as this woman, chest puffed but crying and shaking, told us all of this. A sense of sorrow and remorse filled me, and I did what people often do when someone was upset. I pulled Winsloe into my arms, and held her.

She held my coat and sobbed into it for a moment, obviously releasing something she had hidden for so long. I wanted to protect her too, this new member of our group. I felt dragged down with sadness and sympathy, and it felt horrible. I wondered how normal people did this; put aside everything that they had happening in their lives to be a support for someone else. It was unpleasant, but I knew I needed to hold her. I needed to take a little bit of her weight with me.

She finally let go and untangled herself from me, grabbing a tissue from the box that Sam was offering her.

“I barely know you guys, god, look at me.”

“It’s gonna be okay. If it’s alright with Bobby, I say we take the party to them.”

Bobby looked angrily at him, frustrated that Dean was taking her side, but sighed.

“Fine, I guess. Let’s get one last day of rest then, look over stuff, try and get some idea of where they went.”

“Cas and I can go to the mine later, see if we can salvage anything that might lead us to them.”

Bobby raised an eyebrow at this comment.

“You need any other backup?”

Sam stepped in front of us and put his word in.

“No, they can probably handle it themselves. We’re more use to you here, aren’t we, Win?”

“Yes, definitely.”

“Well I guess that settles it. You and me tonight, Cas. Is that okay with you?”

Dean looked directly at me, a tiny smirk hinting at the corner of his mouth. The same feeling as the night before rushed through me again, but thankfully not as strong. The desire to throw myself on him was slightly less, but only slightly. In my mind, the fact that he wanted it to just be us was deliberate, but maybe that was just wishful thinking. I hoped that maybe I could come to some sort of definite conclusion as to what I really wanted, and what I could actually take. Tie up the loose ends that Dean had presented me with.

“Yes, that is okay with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys like the chapter!  
> Late yet again, how shocking  
> Be sure to leave feedback, you know us writers and our constant encouragement.  
> Also, if you guys have a Tumblr, my url is jimmyyesvak.tumblr.com Follow me, then send me an ask that you read Trying. I'll tag you in a post whenever a new chapter comes up. Thank you again for the read!


	18. Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "All I could do for Dean was love him, and execute everything that came with that. Protecting him, mostly, but also being there if he ever decided that he needed a shoulder to lean on. The day would probably never come, but I found comfort in knowing that I would be readily available if it ever did."

The advances I had been making with Dean surprised me, to be honest. He had always been reserved about his emotions, with me, and also in the rest of his life. He never liked to show people how he was really feeling, let alone how he really felt about them. I welcomed this new revelation he apparently had, but I was cautious. I knew that one wrong move or one sour moment could ruin everything, and we would have to start all over again. Dean was a flame that had dulled down to a pilot light for the moment, but I knew it couldn’t last forever. As much as I wished I could be ignorant and believe that this Dean had left the old one behind, I knew that wasn’t the case. Dean can be painted in a series of highs and lows, and he was in one of his highs. I enjoyed it, but I silently braced myself for the fall that he was overdue for.

I imagined what that fall would be like. Him packing his bags and running away, which was not to make him sound cowardly, but it was realistic. He ran from things, not necessarily because he was afraid, but because separating himself from the problem usually seemed much easier than figuring out how to deal with it, when emotions were involved. It was nothing like he used in the event of a case, quite the opposite. If only he could apply the same logic to his personal life, maybe things would be better and easier for him. Another possibility would be that he would hate me. Not that I had exactly done anything worth hating, but just the fact that I loved him. That the emotion was there, and whatever emotion he had was there because of it. He could run from me until the day he died, but he could never really run from himself. And he could never really run away from his past. Whatever had happened, whatever that man had done to him when he was younger, that was the reason why he was closed. He shut himself down because of that man, and I willed myself not to be angry about it, but rather to try and do what I could to repair him to the best of my ability, if it was possible. All I could do for Dean was love him, and execute everything that came with that. Protecting him, mostly, but also being there if he ever decided that he needed a shoulder to lean on. The day would probably never come, but I found comfort in knowing that I would be readily available if it ever did.

~~~

I decided to wait in the Impala for the hour before our departure. When I asked Dean if that was alright, he smiled and stated that yes, of course I could. The sun had set hours ago, and all traces of light left the sky. I sat inside and relaxed, breathing deeply and trying to be as calm as possible like I did in Antarctica, getting as close to dreaming as I could. I wondered again what I would dream about, if I could. My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Dean closing the trunk of the car, likely with our weapons and supplies for the night inside of it. I heard Dean’s boots crunch around the gravel to his side of the car, where he got inside and sat still for a moment. He suppressed a hiccup and chuckled. He illuminated the inside of the car, and every trace and memory of the dark was chased away. It was just him, next to me, doing nothing special other than being Dean.

“We ready, Cas? Should be fairly easy, the things abandoned anyways. But, you know, its crumbling and burned down. And the last time we were there…”

“I’ll make sure that nothing happens, Dean. We’ll stick together, and if anything happens, I will be able to get you out.”

“Get both of us out.”

“Yes.”

“Good. Glad I picked you. Sam would have just knocked his head on stuff, probably make it fall apart worse.”

“Sometimes Sam is too big for his own good.”

“Yeah…”

He shot me a smile that I didn’t understand, and we started to drive.

“I’ll be glad when this is all over. When we can figure out where these freaks went, and gank them for good.”

“I agree, Dean.”

“I mean, witches, man. Like Win was saying, some other group of witches killed a whole town in a night. And we don’t even really know how many of them there are. What if they are getting reinforcements? I don’t know, this whole thing is really weird. I’ve killed too many witches to count, but this is different. Something is going on, more than the blatantly obvious ‘people are dying’ stuff. This coven is smart, knows what we are going to do before we do it. It’s not normal, even by their standards. We’ve got a hell of a fight on our hands, when it does come. But, with god as my witness, I am ready for it. Whatever they have to throw at me, I’ll take it, with a bullet to the chest as a thank-you note.”

We were quiet the rest of the ride there, and when we arrived, Dean took the keys out and took a deep breath.

“You’re gonna stay right with me, right Cas? No wandering off?”

“Of course.”

“Good. Because, if we get trapped in there, and you didn’t make it out…”

The sentiment hit me hard, and I really understood self-sacrifice in that moment. I could get out fine, and I think he knew that. I had abilities that humans did not, and it would take more than that to kill me. He didn’t even worry about getting himself out, and I knew that if it came to that, he would be the last to go. Dean was a stoic almost all of the time, but in times like that, I saw that he did worry. He did care.

We went to the back of the car to get the duffle bags, and then walked the short distance to the entrance of the mine. It had police tape strung across the entrance, but that didn’t stop us in the least. I helped him move some of the rubble out of the way so we could enter. Dean took a moment to turn on two flashlights he had brought with him, and handed one to me. He looked at me with a smirk, shrugging his shoulders, and entered with me right behind him.

The first thing I noticed was the smell. It smelled like fire, of course, but it was much more sour. If I didn’t know better, I would also say that I smelled rotting flesh. A single glance at dean indicated that he smelled it too, but neither of us said anything.

I used the flashlight to illuminate my surroundings, finding charred wood and various pieces of debris around me, our footsteps echoing in the dull silence that blanketed us. We walked carefully around the huge chunks of rock on the ground, and I was reminded of that day in the burning hospital. I was reminded of that place falling in around us, and Dean grabbing me and yelling…

“Cas!”

Before I understood what was happening, he grabbed my wrist and yanked me towards him. I looked over to the space where I had just been, and saw a huge boulder fall into place, creating a whirlwind of ash and dust around us.

“Are you okay?”

He looked to me in a panic, hand still gripped onto me like it was life or death. Which it was, at first, but he continued to hold me.

“Yes, I’m alright.”

He looked me over once more, gradually let go, and started walking again.

“Pay attention, Cas, Jesus.”

We continued on, deeper and deeper into the mine, picking up blackened papers as we went, trying to decode what was written on them. Most of them were too charred to read, turning into ash the second we touched them, but there were a few that Dean found could be helpful, and he put them in his pocket. I noticed that we were reaching another separate room, and Dean looked back at me.

“This is where they were the first time I came. Headquarters, I guess. If we find anything, it will be in there.”

I moved some large rocks that were obstructing our path, and we entered the room. It was very large, and circular, with piles of burned books and jars along the walls in shelves. A long table stood in the middle of the room, which had untouched items on it.

“Jackpot.”

Dean walked forward a few steps, and I was suddenly very sick. My head spun, and I tried to reach out to Dean. Something was wrong.

“Dean, we have to go, now!”

“Cas, I…I can’t see. Cas, what the hell…”

“What’s happening?”

“I can’t see anything, what…no.”

“Dean, talk to me.”

I felt myself drop the flashlight and walk over to him, hands stretched out as he shone his flashlight at my face.

“You get the hell away from me, you son of a bitch.”

“Dean, what?”

“Cas, where are you?! It’s Azazel, he’s here. You have to run, you have to get out!”

“Dean, it’s me, calm down, please.”

“Do you think that’s funny, huh? Showing up here? I shot your ass to the ground, yellow eyes. You stay…no. God, no.”

I could barely see his face, but I could tell that it had changed from one of anger to abject horror. That split second where I could see everything, when all his vulnerabilities were out in the open, is what truly shattered me.

“Please, I…I’m so sorry. It’s my fault, don’t. Don’t do this, god I am begging you. Do not hurt him!”

“Dean, you’re hallucinating, we have to get out. Come here.”

“I know, I tried so hard. But I’m not perfect, okay? I tried to get there in time, but I couldn’t. But I saved him, Dad. I saved him, isn’t that enough?”

“Just let me get you out of here, Dean!”

“I did what was necessary, given the situation. I did what I had to do to keep Sam safe, those were your orders! I tried, and that’s all I can do. But if you’re gonna hurt him, I have to kill you.”

Dean pulled a gun out of his back pocket, and slowly backed away from me. I yelled his name, but he heard none of it.

“You weren’t around, Dad, I basically raised him! He’s more my kid than yours! I don’t want to do this…what’s…what’s going on…”

I watched the gun drop, and he slumped to the floor, flashlight hitting the ground as he did. He was muttering slightly, but he was off guard, so I took the opportunity to approach him.

“Dean, it’s me. You’re hallucinating, please believe me.”

He looked up to me, and in the low light I saw that his eyes were filled with tears. He looked up to me, but he did not see me.

“Please, I don’t…I don’t deserve this. One day…one day to let me heal, and then you can start tomorrow, I’ll do whatever you want, god Alastair, what do I have to do, just...tell me.”

A choked scream ripped through him, and echoed around the mine. I have never, in all of my existence, heard a cry like that. I watched his back arch forward as he curled in on himself, muscles tense and chest heaving.

“None of the things you are seeing are happening, it’s all inside your mind. They must have set something up…Let me get you out of here.”

He flinched away from me, and whimpered slightly. That sound of complete and utter fear is what hurt more than anything. To see him so afraid of me, desperate and vulnerable like that, hurt more than anything I could have ever imagined.

“Don’t touch me…I just want…I want to go home. I want to see Sam again, and Bobby. Please.”

I reached my hand to his face, tried to ease whatever pain he was feeling, but it lashed back, and I couldn’t. The pain he was experiencing was more than a flesh wound.

“Dean, I’m here.”

Before he could protest, I grabbed him, and flew us both out of the mine, and onto the grass outside. I watched horror and confusion flash over his face, tears streaming down, and he shook like he was freezing.

“Cas…”

I pulled Dean into my lap, and held him. He jolted at first, but gradually wrapped his arms around me, and held me as well.

“They were trying to…they were gonna…”

I held his head in my hands, and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, before leaning to whisper in his ear.

“It’s okay, Dean. I’m here. It is going to be alright. They are gone, they weren’t real, you imagined it. I’ve got you.”

We sat like that for a minute, tangled in each other, Dean shaking and mumbling into my ear, me whispering words of comfort into his. He finally calmed down, and rested his head on me, still gripping his hands onto my trench coat. I held him like a mother holds a child. I was unashamed, and neither was he. His weakness created a sort of weakness for me, and we let this moment happen. Didn’t stop to think about this, didn’t hesitate or worry, just held each other, innocent and warm and gasping for air.

I saw Dean for the first time that night. More than the day I saved him from hell, more than the day that he started glowing. I saw everything spilled out in front of me. Him, honest and afraid, holding on to me for dear life. Holding me like I contained the secret to life itself. Sitting there, like that, I really saw him, and how broken he was. I was so deeply saddened by this, and it hit me like nothing else. These were Dean’s nightmares. These were the ashes that Dean left behind that he tried to forget, but never could. Whatever was in there targeted that, and it tore up what little part of him was still intact.

I also saw that he could be put back together.

I saw that I was the one who could do it, that he truly needed and wanted me as much as I needed and wanted him. I had to stay with him forever, protect him from things like this. I shouldn’t have let it happen in the first place, should have known that something like this was going to happen. As he mumbled a low and tired “thank you” to me, I knew that he meant something different entirely.

“Thank you too, Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys like the chapter!  
> Basically on time today, baby steps!  
> Be sure to leave feedback, you know us writers and our constant encouragement.  
> Also, if you guys have a Tumblr, my url is jimmyyesvak.tumblr.com Follow me, then send me an ask that you read Trying. I'll tag you in a post whenever a new chapter comes up. Thank you again for the read!


	19. Because We Didn't Need To

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We began to move, and neither of us spoke a word. I took this as a sign that the past events wanted to be forgotten. Dean didn’t want to talk about it; therefore he didn’t want to think about it. This proved that that was all it was: a moment of weakness. An instant where I had to hold him upright, but now that he could hold himself, we didn’t need to discuss it. As always, I was disappointed, but not surprised.

One of the remarkable things about Dean Winchester is the speed of his recoveries. Physically and mentally, he is able to instantly put aside things that harmed him. This made it interesting (and difficult) to try and gauge how much distress he was in. Sometimes, I could tell if something had injured him, and I could brush past him and heal him through the physical contact without him detecting it. I had become increasingly good at this, and it was something that I was proud of. Any way that I could help Dean, I would. Easing minor aches and pains was a small gesture that I hoped added up in the end. My power was limited strictly to pains of the body, unfortunately, and not of the mind, especially not of the soul. What happened in that mine injured his soul, and that was something that I couldn’t repair. I couldn’t press two fingers to his temple and resolve that problem for him. But I could hold him, and tell him he was going to be okay. And I did, for a long while. I didn’t know how long we sat there for. Seconds minutes or hours, it felt like a long time. I gave everything I could to Dean, and he took it thankfully. His chest expanded and compressed against me, breath warm against my neck. I thought for a moment that he was asleep, but I caught a glimpse of his eyes. Open, but not afraid like before, no longer terrified. Heavily lidded and slightly pink, he looked a mixture of tired and drugged. At least he was better than he had been earlier.

After a while, I stood, and picked him up with me. He continued to lean on me slightly, using me for support. We trudged back to the car silently, him limping a little bit. The ghost of the injuries he had sustained in hell hung with him for a while after the attack. I whispered that I could transport us back to the car directly if he wanted me to, or even directly back to Bobby’s, but he shook his head no.

We finally reached the car, and when I got in and looked at him, he was a different person. In the short walk to the car, he had completely composed himself. He was strong Dean again, jaw set, hands gripped tightly to the wheel. The weak and vulnerable Dean that I had witnessed before was long gone, which was bittersweet. On one hand, I was glad that he was back to himself. On the other hand, I knew that this would likely be followed by a sense of coldness or passivity towards me, which wasn’t a problem, but I secretly wanted to go back to the comfortable close silence of before. I knew it was best that Dean was back to himself again. This was better for both of us, I told myself. Dean was better, and that was a blessing.

We began to move, and neither of us spoke a word. I took this as a sign that the past events wanted to be forgotten. Dean didn’t want to talk about it; therefore he didn’t want to think about it. This proved that that was all it was: a moment of weakness. An instant where I had to hold him upright, but now that he could hold himself, we didn’t need to discuss it. As always, I was disappointed, but not surprised.

When we got back, Winsloe, Bobby, and Sam were waiting for us. Dean quickly gave them the papers he had retrieved from the mine, and told them that what he had was all that could be salvaged. Bobby thanked him, and he and Sam headed into another room to begin working on it. Winsloe gave Dean a curious look that he did not return, and then left for bed after kissing each of us on the cheek. During the entire exchange, I stood in the doorway wordlessly, simply because I didn’t know what else to do. I could have spoken up and told them about what had happened to Dean, but I knew that it was not what he wanted, and it was his business, not mine.

Dean left the room to the refrigerator, and got us both a glass of water, which was a surprise. He handed it to me with a smile, and motioned for me to follow him. I was led to his bedroom, where he retrieved nightclothes and changed in the bathroom. I sat on the bed and waited patiently. I wondered why Dean had taken me with him, and he soon came out and sat down on the bed next to me in a white shirt and sweatpants. He looked at me and smiled, but said nothing. I wanted to speak instead, but I couldn’t think of anything to say. We just stared at each other for a while, not uncomfortably, but for a long period of time. I marveled at his freckles again, and each of his eyelashes, and every miniscule wave in each of his lips. I wanted to tell him he was beautiful, but he would laugh at me. So I sat and stared, making a mental map of him so I could see him when he wasn’t there. I visually documented his face, and sat in amazement of it. That something so wonderful and imperfect was right there in front of me. Every tiny scar that would stay long after his body had aged and wrinkled, and that was comforting. He would always be handsome, until the day he died. He wouldn’t think so. He would look at his slightly pudgy stomach at 40 and sigh at it, saying that he needed to be in better shape. He would run his hands through his rapidly graying hair at 50 and pout, asking if it was odd if people dyed their hair at that age. He would hold his aching back at 60 and groan, mumbling that he was getting too old for whatever it is that he was doing. He would stare at his sagging skin at 70 and whisper that he missed when he used to be able to pick up any woman he wanted. He would hold his aching chest at 80 and whimper that his tired old lungs were going to give in any day now. At  90, he wouldn’t say anything at all, because the parts of him he hated would be too many for him to say, because every breath was a gift. At 100, his depleted mind would think about all of the grime and dirt that has been rubbed against his soul, and worry if he was good enough to get into heaven. Dean would always see every part of himself as ugly, despite the fact that he was a wonder from the core of his soul to each and every single pore, and he always would be. I could call him beautiful, and he wouldn’t believe me, so I just let it be.

Dean suddenly shifted on the bed, and I was caught slightly off guard. Even more so when he put his legs up on the bed, and placed his head in my lap, facing the wall opposite us. I was in shock for a moment, the importance of this finally sinking in. Him giving in to the comfort I provided, despite any embarrassment or second guessing. I carefully lifted my hand and placed it against the side of his head. A moment or two passed before he nodded, letting me know that it was okay. I slowly began to run my fingers through his hair, and he sighed contentedly. I gently twisted each strand between my fingers, and dragged my nails across his scalp. I pushed my hands through his hair in different directions, testing out how different it felt when I went another way. He let it be, so I let it be.

I could have destroyed this moment with words. Asked why, or bring up the event in the cave. I didn’t because I understood. We didn’t need to speak about things like that. We didn’t need to talk about or justify this, an extremely personal moment between us. We didn’t need words. He understood everything he needed to, and so did I. We understood that this was happening, and this was good. This was comfortable, and pleasant, and we let it happen. He laid his head in my lap with his hand on my knee, and I gently and slowly traced my hands through his hair. We didn’t talk about it, because we didn’t need to.

It just was, and it was wonderful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys like the chapter!  
> Be sure to leave feedback, you know us writers and our constant encouragement.  
> Also, if you guys have a Tumblr, my url is jimmyyesvak.tumblr.com Follow me, then send me an ask that you read Trying. I'll tag you in a post whenever a new chapter comes up. Thank you again for the read!


	20. A Possibility

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You don’t have to try and be anything other than what you are. I am perfectly happy with this. You can lay your head in my lap each night, and I can feel your hair, and we don’t have to talk. If that’s what you need of me, that’s what I’ll be.”

“Hey, Cas?”

I was caught off guard by the whisper from my lap. Dean had now turned to look up at me. It was interesting to see him at that angle.

“Yes?”

“You know I don’t mean to, right?”

“Don’t mean to what?”

He ran a hand over his face, distorting his features for a moment, and I worried if I had said the wrong thing. Up until then, I was afraid to say anything, because if I broke our silence with something that displeased him, I would be ruining a wonderful thing.

“Be like this. How I usually am. Cold.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“You know I’m trying to be better, right? Not try to run from you like I always do. Because, hell, I don’t want to put you through this. I can’t even imagine being in your position, I…I don’t know how.”

I watched that wash over him, the self loathing that plagued him constantly. No matter what the situation was, he always managed to turn the blame back to himself, and I couldn’t stand it.

“You don’t have to try and be anything other than what you are. I am perfectly happy with this. You can lay your head in my lap each night, and I can feel your hair, and we don’t have to talk. If that’s what you need of me, that’s what I’ll be.”

“Dammit, Cas. Why do you put up with me?”

I thought back to the first time I saw Dean’s soul. Cowering and shaken, but beautiful. Unmistakable, I would know it in less than an instant if I saw it. Something so pure, so ashamed of what it had become. A soul that had seen war every single day and still managed to try and find the good in the world. For ever evil life it took, it saved a hundred good ones. It had fallen to this now, torturing other souls, and it was sickened by itself. Dean’s body could think that he had enjoyed it, to again find a way to blame himself, but in reality he didn’t. When you got past all of that, he was lying to himself. His soul was hurt and afraid when it saw what it was becoming, and it needed to be saved. I was there to save it, and here we sat, on Dean’s bed, his head in my lap.

For every time Dean had done something to anger me, made a call that I didn’t agree with, there were five moments where I saw the bright and beautiful part of him shine through. For every foul thing he had ever done, there were five things that would make any wise father proud. And he was so ignorant of that fact, which was the most frustrating part. He couldn’t see just how important he was, how much he impacted the lives of the people around him, the countless lives that he had saved. I wished only for him to know how important he was. There was nothing Dean could do that I wouldn’t forgive him for. I would give everything for him, a thousand times over, and never even blink. I would sacrifice my life if it meant saving his without even a moment of hesitation. Maybe I was losing myself, it was actually very likely that I was losing my mind, so to speak. It was worth it.

I looked down at him, watching me, eyes moving back and forth between mine. It was all very clear in a way that it hadn’t been before. Here in his bedroom, every single doubt and frustration untangled itself, and it was too simple.

“Because I am in love with you, Dean Winchester.”

His mouth opened, and he stared at me in absolute awe. Glowing, always glowing.

“I hope you don’t mind.”

He sat up then, still staring at me in awe. I was unsure of why he was so surprised. He knew, I was sure. He could tell. It was simply the first time I had said it aloud. He seemed to be taking it a lot differently than I was. They were just words, in my opinion. I love you, that’s all, words that anyone could say. I had showed him that I loved him, so surely he knew, which is what confused me.

“No, I don’t, I don’t mind. I’m just…in shock? I guess?”

“I have been meaning to tell you for a long time. It didn’t seem important.”

“What the hell do you mean it didn’t seem important?”

“You already knew.”

He stared at me without saying anything. I was unsure of what to do next, and I missed the moments before when we had just sat in silence. I stood to leave, and he seemed surprised.

“You should probably rest now. You have had a very long day.”

He sputtered, trying to say something but not succeeding.

“Goodnight, Dean.”

I walked out of the room and closed the door gently behind me. I walked out to the living room to see a figure sat on the couch, holding up a small white sign that said ‘9.5’. It took me all of four seconds to figure out who it was.

“Very graceful. Couldn’t have put it better myself. Well, I could have, actually, but you know, you’re learning and all. You couldn’t match up to me if you tried, brother.”

“Where have you been, Gabriel?”

He stood and tossed the sign aside, approaching me.

“Oh, here and there. Handling business. You know how it is. Wait, actually, you may have forgotten, being that you’ve been shacked up with these idiots since the beginning of time.”

“Why are you here?”

“Just checking in. And I’m glad I did. Good job, by the way.”

“With what, Gabriel?”

“With all of the Dean business. I can tell that you have been progressing, good for you. You guys haven’t blown each other yet, so that’s a drawback.”

“Haven’t what?”

He placed a hand on my shoulder and laughed.

“Oh, brother, there is so much for you to learn. All in good time, I guess, if you want to be one of those types. I respect it, though. Just you wait, though, man. Life changing, I swear. So what did he say after you dropped the L-bomb?”

“Dropped the…I do not understand.”

“Looooove, buddy. What did he say after you told him you loved him.”

“He didn’t say anything. I left.”

“Ah, that’s hilarious. Now really, what did he say?”

“Nothing. I left.”

“Good freaking job, brother. Why are out here talking to me? Go talk to him!”

“We did talk.”

“No, oh god you are dense. You have to find out if he loves you back.”

“If he…”

I hadn’t thought about it. That possibility hadn’t even come up to me. If he loved me back? I don’t see how he could, it was highly unlikely. I allowed myself to imagine what it would be like if he did. If we acted the way the people who were in love on television did. Hugging, and holding hands, and kissing. Waking up next to each other, walking in the park together, cooking breakfast together. Saying I love you every night before bed. I could feel the warmth of the glow from the other room then, I didn’t even have to look over and see it. That thought punched through me, imagine if. Imagine if I loved Dean Winchester, and he loved me back. What a concept.

“Well, stop grinning like a giddy little schoolgirl and get in there.”

Before I understood what was happening, I was being pushed forward and into the room, and then I heard a set of wings flutter as he left. I looked to Dean’s bed, in hopes that he was still awake, but he wasn’t. I watched him glow and crackle, snoring slightly, and imagined that. What if he loved me too? I walked over and placed my hand on his cheek gently, and he didn’t move. I imagined that, and it filled me with something that I had never felt before. A mix of hopefulness, joy, and adoration. A sense of excitement for the future, where I could ask him if he did love me back. Maybe he did. It was possible.

Optimism, I think is what they call it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys like the chapter!  
> Chapter 20, what a milestone!  
> Be sure to leave feedback, you know us writers and our constant encouragement.  
> Also, if you guys have a Tumblr, my url is jimmyyesvak.tumblr.com Follow me, then send me an ask that you read Trying. I'll tag you in a post whenever a new chapter comes up. Thank you again for the read!


	21. Time You Enjoy Wasting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was glowing, and warm, and smiling, and perfect. He broke into a straight face for a moment, and my happiness faltered just slightly.
> 
> “You know that’s a Beatles song, right Cas?”

I watched his lips press lightly to her jaw, as she pulled back and kissed him on the nose, and I wondered what that was like. I wondered what it would be like to have that ease with Dean that Sam and Winsloe had achieved. They had been together only a very short time, but they were inseparable. Whenever they were in the room, they were folded in on each other, sometimes whispering about something, sometimes not. Sam and Winsloe connected on a level that amazed me. They were never more than a foot from each other, bodies pressed together at any given moment, at the wrist or hip or ankle. At that moment, they were on the other side of the front porch, waiting for Bobby and Dean to get back. Winsloe was sitting in Sam’s lap, and he curled around her. I tried not to eavesdrop, but I knew they were speaking quietly. Occasionally the word ‘beautiful’ slipped from Sam’s lips, and the word ‘jackass’ slipped from Winsloe’s. I was sure she meant it as a term of endearment, because Sam was grinning from ear to ear.  
I remained inside the house, just inside the screen door, staring outside at nothing in particular, waiting for Bobby and Dean to get back as well. They had left earlier that morning to follow a lead on the Kalite case. I received a pat on the shoulder from Bobby and a brief hug from Dean before they left. Dean had been smiling, but he didn’t say much. I told him to be careful, and he said that yes, of course he would, then they left. And then they were pulling back up into the driveway.

We waited as Bobby and Dean got out of the car, went around to the trunk, and retrieved something. Dean kept a straight face for a moment before lifting a large book out of the trunk and holding it above his head. Sam and Winsloe clapped and cheered, walking over to pat them on the back and congratulate them on their find. I retreated to go sit on the stairs as they brought the noise into the house, opening the book on the table with a thud and muttering more congratulatory remarks. Dean looked up from the book a moment, and turned to Winsloe.  
“Where’s Cas?”

He noticed that I wasn’t there, which was nice. I cleared my throat, and stood from the stairs, noticing Dean smile as I did.

  
“Found him,” Winsloe remarked over Dean’s shoulder. She smiled at me as well, and then furrowed her brow as she looked back and forth between us.

  
“We found the book, Cas.”

  
“I noticed. Good job.”

  
Like that he was beaming at me. He took a step towards me, but we were still far apart. Winsloe was still pressed against his back, looking at me with a questioning expression.

  
“Dean, don’t you have some witch babble to translate, yeah?”

  
He broke his gaze with me for a moment to look down at her, and she raised her eyebrows at him with a smirk.

  
“I guess I do.”

  
“Hey Cas, let’s go for a walk.”

  
“What?”

  
“You, me, walk, outside. Does that sound okay to you?”

  
I looked at Dean for a moment, but his attention had returned to the others and the book. She approached me and took my sleeve.

  
“It’s okay, you don’t need his permission. Let’s go.”

  
I followed her out of the house and onto the side of the road where we began to walk away from Bobby’s house. She was quiet, but smiling. It was one of the only times I had been alone with her since she had arrived. I suddenly noticed a couple of small circular scars on the back of her neck, and opened my mouth to ask her about them, but she spoke first.

  
“Why do you hang around, Cas?”

  
I looked at her for a moment, wondering how I should answer, or if I should answer at all.

  
“What do you mean?”

  
“I mean, you are an angel of the lord or whatever, but you hang out with us weak little humans. Just…bigger fish to fry, I would assume, right?”

  
“I’m here to protect the four of you.”

  
“Sweet of you, but I’m fairly certain we can handle ourselves.”

  
She was beginning to get suspicious now, so I tried to deter her.

  
“It is a precautionary measure. Besides, I have no business in heaven.”

  
“Yeah, I know, you rebelled and all. Thing is, of all of the, what, 7 billion humans on this planet that you could be protecting, out of everyone on Earth who needs help a hell of a lot more than we do, you hang around us four. No offense, but, not really doing much.”

  
“None taken.”

  
“And it’s not like you aren’t useful or anything, but…I don’t know. It just seems like maybe there’s more to it. You know what I mean?”

  
“I do.”

  
“Right, so why us?”

  
She had moved closer to me, matching her steps with mine and not breaking eye contact. She was suspicious at best, that much was certain.  
“I’ve known the Winchesters for a while now. I don’t really know any other humans in the way that I know them.”

  
“They’re your friends.”

  
“Exactly.”

  
“Very close, tight knit group.”

  
“Yes.”

  
“Especially Dean.”

  
“Correct. What?”

  
“Dean. You and him are real close, huh? Best buddies.”

  
“I suppose so.”

  
“I mean, you guys look at each other like you share this really…close bond, you know?”

  
“Profound is the word you are looking for.”

  
“Oh, is it? So you do, have a bond that is. A profound bond in fact. Is that what you’re saying?”

  
I looked to her in panic, and she showed a sense of quiet calm that I hadn’t been expecting.

  
“Perhaps.”

  
“Yeah, perhaps.”

  
We were quiet for a moment then, and I was worried. If she figured out my feelings for Dean, she would assume he felt the same way. As Gabriel had said, Dean was afraid of the idea of feeling that way about a man, since people would judge him for it. If Winsloe said anything to anybody, Dean might be angry with me. I had much more to say on the topic, but I decided not to in order to prevent myself from digging myself deeper. Winsloe was manipulating me, I realized. She already knew the answer to every question she was asking, which was infuriating for me.

  
“You don’t have to lie.”

  
“I haven’t lied.”

  
“But you haven’t told the whole truth.”

  
“I don’t know what whole truth you are talking about. I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”

  
“Ugh, oblivious. Do you love the guy or not, Castiel?”

  
“What guy?”

  
“Don’t act dumb, because I know you aren’t. Here, allow me to spell it out. Do you, Castiel, have the hots for a Mr. Dean Winchester? It’s a yes or no question.”

  
I looked straight ahead and said nothing. She elbowed me in the ribs and smiled.

  
“Aw, come on. You aren’t shy, are you? Mighty Morphing Power Angel?”

  
“Yes, I love Dean. No, he doesn’t love me, I don’t think. He doesn’t know that I told you, so don’t mention it, or he will be angry with me, because he thinks that people will judge him for having feelings of admiration for someone who is a man, which is ridiculous because I am not a man. He is the reason I am here, in addition to protecting all of you. I am in love with him and I do not plan on leaving him unless he asks me to, which I hope that he will not. I hope that perhaps one day I will treat him how couples treat each other on television. I want to hold his hand in mine and tell him jokes and make him breakfast. I want to be able to show all of my love for him without making him uncomfortable. I am in love with Dean Winchester. I hope that answers all of your questions.”  
“See, was that so hard?”

  
“Physically, no.”

  
“Hypothetical, Cassie.”

  
“Oh.”

  
“So why don’t you do all of those things?”

  
“Do what?”

  
“Hold him, squeeze him, and tell him you’ll never leave him. Say his name say his name, when no one is around you, say baby I love you. Tell him you wanna hold his haaaaaaand. Hell, pour some sugar on him in the name of love…but you know, later on. And warn him first. And make sure he is okay with it.”

  
“I understood one of those references.”

  
“Which one, may I ask?”

  
“The Destiny’s Child song.”

  
“You listen to Destiny’s Child.”

  
“I enjoy that group.”

  
“Huh. Wouldn’t have guessed it. What I’m getting at here is don’t hold back. What do you have to lose?”

  
“Him.”

  
She whispered a quiet ‘oh’ and looked down to the ground.

  
“I am unsure that you realize how damaging that would be for me.”

  
“No, I get it. But, you have to take that chance. It’s risky, and it’s scary, trust me I know. I could have let Sam walk past in the store that day. But I said ‘hey, don’t I know you from somewhere? Winchester, right?’ And now look. If I hadn’t taken that chance, we wouldn’t be where we are now. You dig?”

  
“Yes, I dig.”

  
“So it’s settled. If you feel like saying something, you say it. Life is too short. You don’t want to wonder years from now what would have happened if you had just had the huevos to say what you needed to while you had the chance. Am I right?”

  
“I guess you are.”

  
“Good. So when we go back, you don’t hold back at all, okay? Fuck the rules and regulations, we make our own. I’m telling you right now, you won’t regret it. He likes you, okay, let’s be real.”

  
“You think so?”

  
“You know better than I do. But you are just afraid to admit it to yourself that yeah, he probably does, because you don’t want him to hate you. He’s not gonna hate you, so just…ugh, just do the thing.”

  
“Okay.”

  
“Okay? You’re gonna do the thing?”

  
“Yes, I shall do the thing.”

  
“Glad to hear it.”

  
We were quiet the rest of the way back, and it had gotten almost dark out. She kissed me on the cheek, and smacked me on the behind as she pushed me into the house, retreating to her bedroom. Dean had waited for me. Without hesitating I walked up to him.

  
“I’m going to do the thing.”

  
“What?”

  
I took his hand in mine, and interlaced my fingers with his, watching as his glow spiked at the contact.

  
“I’m going to hold your hand, because that’s what I want to do. I don’t want to worry about you being uncomfortable because of that. I don’t want to wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t done this, so I’m going to do it. Because your life is short, relatively speaking, and it is much too short to waste on regret. I want to hold your hand, and so I am.”

  
He looked down at his hand in mine, and smiled. We stood there like that for a second, and a rush of heat ran up my vessel’s spine. He was glowing, and warm, and smiling, and perfect. He broke into a straight face for a moment, and my happiness faltered just slightly.

  
“You know that’s a Beatles song, right Cas?”

  
“Oh, I had forgotten. But yes, now I do. I want to hold your hand, Dean Winchester.”

  
“Good.”

  
He pulled me over to the couch, and we sat down, hands still locked together as he reached for the remote and turned on a rerun of Dr. Sexy. I waited for him to pull away, get up from the couch and go to bed, let go of my hand, but he didn’t. He eventually leaned on my shoulder and fell asleep, snoring as he always did.

  
It was gradual, but a sense of pride filled me. It started from my toes and worked its way to the top, filling me entirely. I had done this; I had achieved this with him. I wasn’t afraid, I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t waste time. Well, technically, I did. All of the time before then, waiting and wondering. But without it, I wouldn’t be where I was then. I had enjoyed learning Dean up until that point, the little mannerisms he had, his gait, the way he acted around different people, the way he acted around me. Eventually, that I could sit there on that couch with him, and hold his strong hand in mine, and he wouldn’t mind. I didn’t mind. I could have been somewhere else, as Winsloe said, protecting someone who needed it more than Dean. But I wasn’t. I was right there, wasting all of my time on him, spending every moment I could in his presence, and I was enjoying it.

  
I had a feeling he was enjoying it too.  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys like the chapter!  
> Yesterday was my brother's birthday, so that's why I didn't post a new chapter. Also, sorry for the weird spacing before, I was having some technical difficulties and had to post from my mobile, which, by the way, sucks, and I don't recommend it.  
> (p.s. my headcanon is that Sam is a closet RnB fan, and when Dean isn't around, he and Cas listen to Destiny's Child, TLC, etc. together. Don't question it. Just let it happen.)  
> Be sure to leave feedback, you know us writers and our constant encouragement.  
> Also, if you guys have a Tumblr, my url is jimmyyesvak.tumblr.com Follow me, then send me an ask that you read Trying. I'll tag you in a post whenever a new chapter comes up. Thank you again for the read!


	22. Things We Aren't, And Things We Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "His hand in my lap with fingers woven between mine was solid proof that, worst case scenario, he was okay with this. If I was lucky, maybe it would be more than okay."

I could watch Dean sleep for days. He was so completely fascinating when he was asleep, and I could actually see him then, because I had no fear of him catching me staring. He was leaning on my shoulder, snoring as always. Small rumbles of breath catching behind his nose with every inhale, and a soft sigh with each exhale. He slept with his mouth slightly open, which was very amusing. He looked like he was a little shocked at all times, lips parted with the ghost of a surprised gasp. I wondered at his mouth again, curious as always about what his lips felt like. What it felt like to kiss Dean Winchester. What it felt like to kiss anyone. I had seen other people do it, and on television, and it intrigued me. Just two mouths pressing together created such a connection between two people. I wanted to know what that was like. I wanted to be brave enough to kiss Dean, but I had to wait for the right time. I knew that just holding his hand as I was then was a giant leap in the right direction.

I looked down at my leg where our joined hands were resting. In the hours since I had taken his hand, he never retreated from me, or showed any indication that he wanted to. It struck me that maybe he was experiencing the same dilemmas as I was. Maybe he had wanted to hold my hand as well, but was unsure of how to actually do it. Maybe he was worried that I would hold back from him, or that the time wouldn’t be right. I began to allow these ideas of returned affections play in my mind rather than drown them out with the assumption that it was just wishful thinking, just imagining something that wasn’t there. I allowed myself to consider requited love for the first time, and it excited me. His hand in my lap with fingers woven between mine was solid proof that, worst case scenario, he was okay with this. If I was lucky, maybe it would be more than okay.

As gently as I could, I turned his hand over to see the inside of his forearm. I traced the veins in his arms with my hand, mapping out yet another part of him to imagine when he was away. The countless clumsy scars he had received littered his arm in a way that was much less mess and much more abstract. I saw these scars as a collection of moments that helped Dean become who he was today; a man unafraid of things that hide in the dark.

The sun eventually rose, and I heard some movement upstairs. Dean remained in almost the exact same position the entire night, and was still asleep when Sam and Winsloe came downstairs. Sam looked surprised, and Winsloe pointed to my hand and gave a silent thumbs up before they put on their coats and left as quietly as they could. Bobby eventually woke up and turned on the shower, which was when they returned with breakfast. Winsloe whispered ‘wake him up’ to me, and then set the bags down in the other room.

I reached over to tap Dean on the shoulder, but his voice stopped me before I could.

“I’m awake already.”

“How long have you been awake?”

“What time is it?”

I looked around the corner to Winsloe, who mouthed the time to me.

“7:49 AM”

“Good enough I guess.”

He opened one eye and peeked up at me, smiling and glowing.

“Hey, Cas.”

“Hello, Dean.”

He sat up on the couch and stretched a little bit, before turning and looking at me with mussed hair, droopy eyelids, and a half-awake grin.

“May I ask you something, Dean?”

He rubbed his eyes with his free hand and groaned.

“Yeah, sure, go ahead.”

“Why did you continue to hold my hand?”

He looked down, then back up at me, shrugging and standing up.

“Why not?”

He stood and slowly pulled away from me, hands separating at last.

“Morning, gang!”

“Uh, good morning, Dean. Aren’t you chipper this morning?”

“What, Sammy, can’t a guy be happy? I’ve got my guys, plus Win of course, it’s a beautiful day outside, we’ve got leads on the case, and you guys got breakfast…what’s not to be happy about?”

“Not to mention Angel Face over there, right Dean?”

I stood and peeked around the corner, curious about what exactly was happening in the next room.

“Hey, Winsloe, how did you sleep?”

“Not as good as you, I’m guessing.”

Sam shoved her shoulder slightly, and she stuck her tongue out at him.

“Yeah, I slept really well, actually. I feel great for once. Weird, man. I feel like I could go run a mile or go get a lotto ticket and win a million dollars, or something. I just feel so good, and I just wanna tell everyone. And I don’t know why.”

“You know, there’s a word that you are looking for, Deany Beany.”

“Really?”

“It’s called being in...Oh hey Cas!”

I walked in then, hoping to keep them from saying anything else I wasn’t supposed to hear. I looked over to Dean, and he was staring straight ahead, not making eye contact with anyone. I cleared my throat to break the silence.

“Hello, everyone.”

“Good morning, man, uh, Dean and Win were just talking about how nice it is today.”

I looked out the window, and then back at Sam.

“Yes, the weather is pleasant today.”

There was a long silence, and then Winsloe carried the bags to the table.

“Anyways, breakfast. BOBBY!”

We were all a little startled by her suddenly loud voice. A small voice somewhere called back ‘whaddya want?’

“BREAKFAST! THEY REMEMBERED THE CHEESE THIS TIME!”

Bobby came down the stairs and thanked Winsloe with a kiss on the cheek, and we all sat down and began eating. Sam set down his sandwich and cleared his throat.

“So guys, I was up late with the book last night…”

“Of course you were, you dweeb.” Dean remarked with a mouthful of hash browns.

“…and I think their place here was a temp. A thirty year temp, but when you think about how long these people live for, its not a big deal. Cross referenced some things with writings I found online, and I’m thinking one of two places. Either somewhere on the California coast or central Oklahoma.”

“Ooh, I hope it’s the coast, I could go for some tanning time, I’m so pale.”

“Winsloe?”

“Yeah?”

“Aren’t you Jamaican?”

“Yeah, so? Still pale.”

“That’s pale to you?”

She lifted a caramel-colored arm and examined it.

“More pale than usual.”

“We’re gonna have to look more into it, don’t want to travel that far for nothing, but yeah, I’m thinking California.”

“What makes you say that, boy?”

Sam lifted a few papers off of the table and handed them to Bobby.

“Suspicious deaths, like fifteen of them, all in the same area, fits to me. What I don’t understand is why they just couldn’t keep quiet, lay low if they are trying to run from us anyways. But I’ll take it. Want to get this case done so we can get on with things.”

“Why are you so quiet, Cas?”

We all looked over to Dean, and I thought about what I should say in response. I could have told him that I was staring at his collarbone that was peeking out from the neck hole of his shirt, but I felt that it would be too forward of me.

“Listening.”

“You sure about that, bro? Listening…or gawking?”

I turned around slowly to see Gabriel standing behind me, making a face at Dean. Winsloe was already up from her chair, gun pointed at Gabriel’s head and ready to fire.

“Winsloe, it’s alright, this is my brother, Gabriel. Annoying, but harmless mostly.”

Gabriel turned to face Winsloe and the gun directly.

“Who is this lovely lady? I don’t believe we’ve met, darling.”

He dipped down into a sort of mock bow, and I looked around at the table. Bobby was laughing, Dean was rolling his eyes, and Sam was obviously fuming.

“You hitting on me, stranger? With a gun pointed between your eyes? I gotta say, it’s bold.”

“Well, I’m a bold kind of guy.”

“What do you want, what was it, Gabriel?”

She stared relentlessly at him, tightening her grip on the gun.

“All I want is for you to put down the gun so we can get to know each other, real civil-like. Haven’t seen hips like those since B.C., sweetheart.”

“If you’re trying to win me over, you’re too late.”

She nodded back in the direction of Sam, eyes never leaving Gabriel.

“I’m already fucking Sam here, isn’t that right babe?”

Bobby and Dean were now holding back roaring laughter, and Sam was sputtering slightly, trying to figure out a response.

“Shucks. But hey, I’ll try anything once.”

He winked at Sam, which earned even more sputtering noises and a deep laugh from Bobby.

“I swear to god…”

“You know, it’s not polite to talk about my daddy like that. Save that bad mouth for the bedroom, sweetheart.”

“Wait…you…”

She looked back and forth between Gabriel and I, slowly piecing it all together.

“You’re an angel?”

“I think you’re more of an angel than me but, yeah, I am.”

She slowly put her gun down, eyeing me.

“Is he gonna hurt us, Cas?”

“Not deliberately, no. As I said, annoying but harmless.”

“Exactly, I’m not here to start a fight. I’ve got news!”

“I’m listening.”

“Found your witches. Thousand Oaks, California. Right next to beautiful, sunny Malibu. That’s where the blood bath is going down.”

“Wait, how do you even know about that, Gabriel?”

“Oh come on, Sammy, you don’t honestly think I don’t keep tabs on my little brother right? I think the correct response is a thank you, maybe a fruit basket of some sort.”

“Right, yeah. Thanks I guess.”

“Cool. Well, catch you later. Especially you, honeydew.”

He winked at Winsloe and left, which caught her off guard.

“Yeah, angels do that sometimes. Just poof away somewhere. Gets really annoying, welcome to the club.”

We sat there in silence for a second, thinking about the information we had just gotten. A lead, out of absolutely nowhere, to a seemingly nice town where people were being killed. At least the backdrop would be pleasant. I spoke up first.

“So Washington, then. We should make preparations.”

“Hey, Cas, come to the car with me, we gotta empty out the trunk, take inventory of what we have, what else we need. I can’t carry everything.”

I walked out of the door behind him, ignoring yet another slap on the rear from Winsloe. We walked next to each other for a while, headed out to where the Impala was parked. I looked over at him, and he was grinning like a fool. I found myself grinning as well. I found myself wrapping my hand around his again, just because I wanted to, just because I could and I knew it would be okay. When I looked back to him, he was staring, smiling, and glowing. He lifted our hands, turned them over to examine them, and let them drop to our side again.

“What are we, high school sweethearts or something?”

“No. But what if we were?”

He chuckled and looked down at the ground.

“I would call you babe, you would call me honey. I would take you to the movies and try to put my arm around you at the scary part. I would make you dinner and you would meet my parents, while they told you embarrassing stories about when I was a kid. I would sneak you out of the house so we could go mess around on the train tracks. Anyone who tried to mess with you would get a busted nose and some knocked out teeth. And uh…And I’d kiss you under the bleachers after I won the big game.”

I tried to imagine that, but I couldn’t.

“But we aren’t high school sweethearts, are we, Dean.”

“No, we are not.”

“So what are we?”

I said it jokingly, but we both suddenly realized what I was actually saying. How would we define what had happened and what was still happening between us. For a moment, I worried that I had said the wrong thing.

“We’re just this. This right here. And I don’t know about you, but I’m happy. So how about we continue with what we are doing, huh Cas?”

“Yes, that…that sounds fine to me.”

“Good. Help me with this stuff.”

I hadn’t realized that we had reached the car, and I let go of his hand to start getting things out of the trunk. I looked back and saw that Sam, Bobby, and Winsloe were applauding me through the blinds of the window.

I didn’t know what this was, but I liked it.


	23. Easy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The idea that I had made his life even one tiny bit happier, even for a moment, even over something trivial, was more than I could have ever hoped for, and now it was a reality."

“What do you think boys, the blue one is better, yeah?"

I looked up momentarily from my novel at Winsloe who was spinning slowly in front of us. Dean cleared his throat next to me, without looking up from his hands.

”Yeah, that one looks best, get that one.”

”You didn’t even look, dickhead.”

She put her hands on her hips and pouted at him, narrowing her eyes as he shrugged indifferently. Sam came and sat down on my other side.

”Ugh, Sam, which one? I need a bathing suit, we are going to the beach, it’s supposed to be hot all next week, I’m gonna get some sun. Gank some witches while I’m there of course, but after that, it’s tanning time. I’m starting to look like a ghost.”

”Uh, first of all, ‘gank’ is kinda Dean’s thing.”

Dean nodded gently, still without looking up, and Sam continued. 

”Secondly, we aren’t going to a beach, we are going to a ‘coastal town’ and it’s for business, we might, emphasis on might, have some time left over, but that’s still up in the air. And thirdly, yes, I like the blue one better. 

”Yeah, but not the best for tanning I would assume. I’m not a big tanner myself, but I think it involves more exposed skin. That thing covers, like 75% of you. I’m just saying.” 

”Just don’t want to turn too many heads, Dean. Wouldn’t want everyone on the beach to get whiplash. I’ll try on the last one though, just to be sure.” 

”You go do that. We’ll be here. Mostly because Bobby took the car, but yeah, we’ll be here.” 

”Asshole.” 

”Yeah, but I’m your favorite asshole.”

”Shut up. Cas, what do you think?" 

I turned to her again, observing her bathing outfit for a second time. It was nice, and she did look nice in it.

”I think you look beautiful, Winsloe. You always do.” 

”Good answer. I like Cas, he knows how to talk to a lady.” 

She turned and went back to the dressing room as both Winchesters gave me angry glares. 

”Really, Cas? Why don’t you lay it on a little thicker, huh?” 

”Lay what on thicker? I don’t understand."

His grimace softened instantly, and he nudged my shoulder with his. 

”Idiot."

”Yes, but I’m your favorite idiot. Isn’t that right, Dean?” 

I tried to remain serious, but I could feel myself smiling, and eventually laughing. Joking back and forth with Dean, making him smile with such ease. It was a comforting feeling. The idea that I had made his life even one tiny bit happier, even for a moment, even over something trivial, was more than I could have ever hoped for, and now it was a reality. 

”How about this one, boys? ‘Better for tanning’, do you think, Dean?” 

Winsloe appeared in a different bathing suit this time, bright yellow with a white striped pattern. It did show a lot more skin than the last one, a lot closer to completely nude. I looked to Dean, and he shrugged again. I looked to Sam, and his jaw visibly dropped, like something out of a television cartoon.

”You…that. That one is nice. It really, it shows off –it accentuates the-“

”You’re drooling, sweetie. So you like it? Yellow and white?”

”Yellow and white.”

”So yellow and white it shall be. Looks like you have a little situation. Is this really all it takes?”

Sam stuttered again, and Dean coughed to try to cover a laugh.

”It’s all good, I’ll handle it when we get home, how does that sound? Anyways, yeah, I’m getting this one. I like it better. Makes me feel better. If you’ve got it, flaunt it, right?”

She disappeared behind the drape again, and I felt Dean reach around me and pat Sam on the back.

”She is something else, man. Good job, really.”

”Yeah, you too, brother.”

Sam looked to me and winked, then turned back to his book. He was reading the same thing as me, “The Great Gatsby” by F. Scott Fitzgerald.

”How do you like the novel so far, Sam?”

”Love it. But I’ve read it like eight times, so there’s that.”

”Do you ever grow tired of it?”

”Not really.”

”Yeah, cuz you’re a big nerd.”

”Shut up, Dean. No, it’s just, some books stick with me. I have to read it once every few years. Every time I read it, I see more in it.”

”That makes sense, Sam.”

”That book isn’t even that good, dude. I’d take Orwell over that thing any day.”

”Another good one.”

”I’ve never read Orwell, Dean. What is it about?”

”No, Orwell isn’t a what, it’s a who. George Orwell, wrote some great stuff. Trippy, though. Makes you reconsider, look at everything in a different light. Makes you pissed off at the world we live in.”

”Like Fight Club”

”Okay, back up. You’ve read Fight Club, but never any George Orwell? Really?”

”I’ve been busy helping you save lives, Dean. In case you hadn’t noticed.”

”So sassy, Cassy.”

”I learned from the best.”

”Yeah, I guess you did.”

”Not you. Winsloe.”

Sam imitated the sound of a basketball entering the net, which earned a glare from Dean.

”Oh really now? How long have we known each other? Years, right? What does Winsloe have that I don’t, huh?”

”Breasts, for one thing. A nice behind for another.”

”My behind is wonderful, just to be clear.”

”Is it, Dean?”

I leaned in close to him and raised an eyebrow, much to the amusement of Sam next to me.

”Are you sure?”

”If you hate my ass so much, why don’t you kiss it, huh Cas?”

His voice showed anger, but he was holding back a smile just as I was. I stopped a second to think of the right response.

”I’m fairly certain that it is you who will be kissing mine.”

At that point, Sam could no longer hold in his laughter, and Winsloe came out of the changing room, civilian clothes on and bathing suit in hand. She looked to us, faces close, invading each other’s space. Walking over to Sam, she leaned and whispered in his ear.

”Damn, are they ever gonna shake a bed frame or what?”

Sam whispered back in an even lower voice.

”Matter of time. Ten bucks says Cas will initiate it.”

”You’re on.”

I didn’t know what they were talking about, but it sounded serious, and private, so I tried not to listen anymore. Dean and I were still very close together, and he eventually chucked and leaned back. I turned to look at Sam and Winsloe, and they were about to leave. Dean saw this too, and he leaned on my leg for leverage to stand. He didn’t need to, but he did anyway. He didn’t need to let his hand slide from one of my knees to the other as he walked around me, but he did. I looked up from his hand to him, smiling and winking at me, glowing like life depended on it.

I didn’t expect things to be this easy between us. I expected a fight, or for him to be afraid of other people seeing how he was with me. It was becoming clear that he did not care, and it was wonderful. I could joke with him without any fear of being ignored or a disconnect. It felt relaxed, and calm, and warm, and happy. It came easily to me, intertwining my life with his. He seemed okay with it as well.


	24. Onwards, To California Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Have you ever seen me frolick? It's god damn majestic, I tell you what."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick change. I did some research, and I'm changing the setting of the witch hunt from Washington to California. I am very sorry if this causes any confusion. The new setting is going to be in Thousand Oaks, California, which is my hometown. I really hope that you guys can adapt to this, and that it didn't throw you off too much. Remember, California. Sorry again.  
>  Also, sorry for any formatting issues. Posting from mobile. Ugh.

Bobby Singer truly is a miracle. The entire car ride, all I could think about was how blessed I was to have Bobby Singer in my life. He housed me, he cared for us, and most importantly, was a wise and respectable voice in any debate. So when Sam and Dean sat on the couch, bags and suitcases in hand, arguing about the trip, Bobby swooped in and helped. 

"We don't need to stay longer, Sammy. This isn't a damn California vacation." 

"Why not? We're gonna be like half an hour away from the coast, might as well relax a little when we are done." 

"How many cases are we gonna miss while we are off tanning on the god damn beach, huh Sam? How many people are gonna die because we got lazy?" 

"People die every day, Dean. We've earned a week off." 

"A week? What happened to three days? And is that really how you're gonna play it? They just die anyways? You act like those lives don't even matter!" 

The boys were silenced when a pair of heavy boots thunked down the stairs. They continued to give each other angry looks, but they were silent. When Bobby spoke, it was calm and measured. 

"What are you two arguing about this time?" 

"Sam here seems to think we can take a week off from hunting once this case is done, frolick in the sand like little kids." 

"And why not, boy?" 

"Come again?" 

"Have you ever seen me frolick? It's god damn magestic, I tell you what." 

"Bobby." 

"Maybe we can make some daisy chains too. How does that sound, Sam?" 

Bobby and Sam started laughing then, but Dean held his ground, eyebrows low and posture challenging. 

"So we just take a vacation on the beach, let the people die?" 

"A week is going to be okay." 

"Damnit, Bobby, you're really taking his side on this? It's enough with one idiot in the room, don't need you joining that parade." 

He stood and crossed the room in a single step, not aggressive, but rather strong and silently defiant. Like someone who was in charge, but who didn't want to allow his temper to flare up. Like a father, a proper one. 

"Do not use that tone of voice with me, Dean. Respect your damn elders. I have decided that we are spending a week after to be human for a little bit. I've had some money stashed away, so we can really enjoy our time. A vacation fund, I guess. Now, if that isn't okay with you, when we are done, you can leave. Nothing's keeping you. But I'm staying the week, and so is Winsloe, and so is Sam. What about you, Cas?" 

I was startled by suddenly being relevant to the conversation, and cleared my throat. 

"I also would like to stay. I hope that you do too, Dean. We can have a nice vacation." 

Bobby raised an eyebrow and smiled slightly at me. 

"I, we all can. The five of us together." 

Dean looked over to me, expression going from the glare he was giving Sam to his default straight face, and then eventually a smile.

“Fine. Gank the witches, back in exactly seven days time. We have work to do. We’re always gonna have work to do.” 

“Good, great. So have you guys packed the cars yet?” 

“Cars? Plural? No, we take the van. Saves money, more efficient-“

“What, so I can listen to you and Sam bicker like toddlers for sixteen hundred miles? I don’t think so. Sam and I take the truck, you take the Impala.” 

Sam looked hopefully up at Bobby. 

“Winsloe?” 

“Nice try, kid. Listening to you to…do whatever it is that you do is worse than listening to you and Dean argue. She rides with him.” 

“What about Cas? He’s riding with me, right?” 

It was silent for a long moment, Sam putting his head down and smiling, Bobby looking back and forth between Dean and I. 

“Well of course. Wouldn’t want to…yeah, Cas goes with you. So. Glad we settled this, being that you can’t figure the crap out on your own. I’ll be upstairs, finishing up. I want the cars ready by the time I’m out, you hear? We need to get going, we have a lot of road in front of us. God, 25 hours…why don’t we fly again?” 

“Planes crash. Plus, how are we gonna get about fifty guns, knives, grenades, and other various weapons on a plane?” 

“Point made. Get done, I mean it. Jesus.” 

Bobby started up the stairs, passing Winsloe as he went, who was carrying two large purple duffel bags, one in each hand. 

“Did he say yes? He said yes right?!” 

Sam nodded, and she ran over and sat on his lap, dropping her bags on the way. 

“There’s a catch, though. Two cars, you ride with Dean, I ride with Bobby.” 

“Aw. Well that’s okay, Dean and I can keep each other company, right, asshole?” 

“Favorite asshole,” Dean said, not once looking up from his newspaper. 

“Yeah yeah. Oh, forgot to tell you. I brought Bobby coffee this morning, and let him have first shower, and made him breakfast. Like way earlier.” 

“You two-timing my brother, Win? And telling him? And with Bobby?!” 

“Wow, shut up, I had a plan. Which worked, by the way. Bobby is letting Sam and I get our own room.” 

“Is he, really? Well then…”

Dean stood and made a disgusted noise, shielding his eyes with the newspaper. 

“Ugh, disgusting. Save that crap for when I am very, very far away.” 

“Jealous.” 

“Right sure. Hey, Cas, catch.” 

I was tossed a book, thin and white. I turned it over and saw the single bright blue eye that took up much of the cover, as well as the author and title. I smiled and looked up to thank Dean, and was met with two firm pats on my chest. He let his hand drag across my chest for a moment, and my breath caught. Even more so when he raked his hand across my collar, pulling the fabric and exposing more of my skin, almost to my collarbone. A snort came from behind him, and he turned to see that Winsloe and Sam were both eyeing him. Being Dean, of course, he cleared his throat and promptly left. Winsloe wagged her eyebrows, and Sam winked. 

“Let’s go finish prepping the car, huh Cas?” 

~~~

“God, Dean, again with the Metallica? What is that, six plays in a row.” 

“Winsloe.” 

“I like them as much as the next chick, but there is a point-“

“Hey! Remember the rule? Driver picks the music…”

“Shotgun shuts his or her cakehole. Yes, I remember. But come on, be reasonable. You are just being grumpy.” 

“Yeah, well, the last of my patience boiled off around the Utah border. Just, give me this okay.” 

“You’ve been driving too long, give me a turn. What have we got, like 2 hours, 3?” 

“Winsloe.” 

“You’re being a puss.” 

“WINSLOE IF YOU CALL ME THAT ONE MORE TIME SO HELP ME GOD-“

“WHAT WOULD BE BETTER? CONTROL FREAK?” 

They had been like this for a while, it had just finally come to a breaking point. During the beginning of the trip, they had laughed and sang along to the radio. When it became static, Dean began to play his music collection. Winsloe sighed and rolled her eyes, deciding to call Sam, who was in the car ahead of us. The more she cooed at him, the angrier Dean became, until he took the phone and threw it behind him, where it remained on the floorboard. Now he and Winsloe were arguing about music again, getting more heated than before. This entire time, the hours we had been driving, I had remained silent, but I could not deal with it anymore. I had to speak up. 

“YOU NEED TO WATCH IT, WINSLOE.” 

“OH, I NEED TO WATCH IT? OH. OKAY. THAT’S VALID. I’LL WATCH IT WHEN YOU FUCK OFF!” 

“Excuse me.” 

“WHY DON’T YOU FUCK OFF, JESUS!” 

“DON’T THINK I WON’T KNOCK YOUR DAMN LIGHTS OUT, WINCHESTER, I SWEAR I WILL.” 

“Excuse me.” 

They continued to fight back and forth, so I stopped the car. It came to a screeching halt at the side of the road, and they were finally silent, looking back at me in shock. 

“Dean, I think you should let Winsloe drive.” 

“Cas-“

“Dean, please. I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have said that stuff. Go sit back there with Cas, relax, maybe nap a little? I’ll take care of it.” 

Dean glared back and forth between us before getting out of the car, slamming the door behind him. Winsloe whispered a quiet ‘thank you’ and climbed over to the driver’s seat, as Dean came and sat with me. I positioned myself in such a way that I could touch knees with him, just barely, and I watched him physically relax. The backache and eyestrain were gone, and I believe it helped. Winsloe started the car, and we started driving again. 

“Better?” 

“Shut up.” 

“Music? I have my tapes.” 

“Hey, didn’t I say-“

“-that driver picks the music? Yeah, I think you did.” 

He looked over to me for support, but I saw Winsloe’s point. 

“It seems as though she has found a valid loophole, Dean. I am sorry.” 

“Ugh, whatever. What is it?” 

“The Kooks.” 

“The who?” 

“No, not The Who, but yeah, also a good band. The Kooks.” 

“Sounds like an STD.” 

I looked in the rearview mirror, and saw that she was smiling. 

“Like, hey, sorry honey can’t. I caught The Kooks from a girlfriend I had once.” 

Now the three of us were laughing. 

“Itches like crazy, you don’t want it.” 

“Shut up, asshole.” 

“Favorite asshole.” 

I was glad that they had regained the balance between them. When they fought, it made Dean angry, and that wasn’t okay. Winsloe started the tape, and an acoustic guitar came through the speakers, followed by a voice with an interesting accent, singing about a girl who moves in her own way. 

“Hey, Cas?” 

“Yes?” 

“Where did you put that book I gave you?” 

I pulled it out of my coat pocket, smiling when he smiled at me. 

“Do me a favor? Read it to me? Angels don’t get carsick, right?” 

“No, they do not.” 

“Good.” 

I cleared my throat and turned to the title page. 

“Okay. ‘1984, a George Orwell novel.” 

I was only partially surprised to feel Dean move toward me and lay his head in my lap, as we had that night. I glanced up to the rearview mirror, Winsloe grinning at me as expected. I moved the book to see Dean looking up at me, smiling and glowing. Illuminating the entire car with a soft white light that was concentrated on him, forming a thin barrier just a millimeter away from his skin, enveloping him completely. There in the Impala with him, I sat, book in hand, Dean in my lap. I put the book back in front of my eyes and began. 

“It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen…”


	25. Onwards, To California Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I was just trying to help, I told myself as I backed against the wall and lowered myself to the floor."

We finally arrived at a desolate hotel in the middle of the Utah desert, and parked next to Bobby’s truck. Winsloe was unbuckled and out of the car the second she applied the parking brake, running over to embrace Sam. Dean and I remained in the backseat, his head, after three hours, still in my lap. He chuckled and rolled his eyes, I was assuming at Winsloe rather than me.

”Jeez. They act like they haven’t seen each other in fifty years. Clingy much?”

I looked up to see that Winsloe was now sitting atop Sam’s shoulders. He pretended to drop her a few times, and she laughed and scrambled to grab onto him when he did. I looked down to my lap, where Dean was rubbing his face with both hands and grumbling something.

”What did you say?”

He grumbled slightly louder, but I was still unsure of what he was saying.

”Come again?”

”I said I don’t wanna get up!”

”Why not?”

”Because that requires getting up. Opening the car door. Walking. I don’t wanna do any of that.”

”Alright. Hold on.”

Before he could protest, we were in the hotel room, him propped against my shoulder slightly.

”What? How the…Cas.”

”It’s faster.”

”You should be conserving your angel mojo. We have a battle coming up, okay?”

”I’m sorry.”

The door opened behind us, and Bobby walked in, setting his suitcase on the bed closest to the door.

”Where the hell did you two go?”

”We, uh. We poofed.”

Bobby gave me a knowing look, and shook his head.

”You need to save that stuff. It’s pretty valuable, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

”That’s what I’m saying. We’re gonna need to save our strength. Sometimes it feels like I’m the only person taking this seriously.”

”I’m taking it seriously! And you should have seen Sam, he bit his nails down to nubs like a god damned little kid.”

”Sam doesn’t bite his nails.”

”He does now.”

”No, you don’t understand. He doesn’t do that. I’m gonna go check on him.”

He was past me and halfway out the door before I even understood what was happening.

”Word to the wise, Dean? Knock first.”

He closed the door behind him without looking back once. He was worried, therefore I was worried. I hoped that Sam was okay. Dean knew Sam better than he knew himself, so if Dean sensed something was wrong, it was more than just a hunch. I wanted to go help, but I knew my presence would be hurting more than it would be helping. Instead, I sat down on Dean’s bed and waited for him to come back. Part of me wanted to know what was wrong, but the other part knew that it would probably be in my best interest not to pry. It was his business, not mine, after all. Sam was probably okay, perhaps nervous about the case. I looked up to ask Bobby if he had any ideas, but he was already gone and the shower was running in the bathroom. I glanced around at my surroundings for the first time since arriving. The walls were a dark beige, with white stripes. The carpet was long, and a slightly lighter shade of beige. It had, unsurprisingly, dark stains that had been subject to many unsuccessful attempts to clean out. One of them, in the corner, was instantly identifiable as human blood. Not to others, perhaps, but I knew what it was. I hoped with everything in me that it was due to an accident, someone was clumsy and cut their hand on broken glass, or maybe someone woke up in the middle of the night with a nosebleed. Just something common, I hoped. My thoughts were interrupted, as usual, by Dean walking back into the room. I stood and began to approach him, slightly worried when he took a step back. 

”Is Sam okay?”

”So he says. Something’s up though. Won’t tell me what. I think it might have something to do with Win, but I’m not sure. It will probably sort itself out, right Cas? Tell me I’m worrying too much.”

”Uh…you’re worrying to much.”

He paused for a second then, realizing that he had been pacing. He moved his legs a little, planting his feet in the carpet to keep himself still.

”Am I?”

He looked to me expectantly, and I hesitated for a moment, figuring out what I should say. I settled on the truth.

”Sam is probably fine. And if he isn’t, whatever he is going through, he wants to and obviously can handle on his own. If it was important for him to tell you, he would.”

”That’s what I’m saying, Cas. He should just tell me. There isn’t anything he should be keeping from me, I’m his brother!”

”I know, Dean. He probably just needs space.”

”Oh, yeah, right. Because you’re such an expert.”

”I was just-“

”Like you know my brother better than I do. It’s my job to take care of him, not yours. It always has been. And something is wrong with him. He won’t tell me, meaning he probably won’t tell Winsloe. Then I have you, trying to water this down. When Sam starts hiding stuff from me, that’s when things get twisted. That is when things go wrong. You wouldn’t know, Cas, you weren’t around when we were kids!”

He started to approach me, and I found myself backing away.

”When we were kids, he was twelve, maybe thirteen. Bullied by the kids in his class, never said a thing, no matter how much I bugged him. I thought, yeah, fine, probably just moody kid stuff, it’ll pass. If he needs to tell me, he will. Comes home from school the next day, bloodied up with two fractured ribs. I could have prevented that, but no, I decided to just let it go, just give him space like you say, he would work it out on his own. It took him a really long time to recover from that, all because I wasn’t careful enough. Because I wasn’t watchful enough. I don’t care how big or small it is, if there’s something wrong with my brother, I’m gonna find out what, and I don’t need you telling me I’m overreacting!”

He stormed over to me, leaned into my face, eyes wild, then left. Walked past me and directly out the door, slamming behind him as he went.

”I was just trying to help,” I whispered to no-one. I looked at the time, and took note of it. In an instant, I was in a tool shed that belonged to some middle class man living in an average suburb outside of Seattle, Washington. As I had expected, there was a storm happening above my head, the smell of it surrounded me. I looked up at the metal roof and heard the sound of thousands of raindrops hitting it, a quick and uneven drumbeat on a makeshift instrument. I took a deep breath, and told myself that Dean would be better in the morning. He was tired, and irritable, and nervous because of the case. He was worried about his brother, as always, and there was nothing wrong with that. I haven’t done anything wrong, I told myself as I reached behind me to keep the shovel that I knocked over from falling. I was just trying to help, I told myself as I backed against the wall and lowered myself to the floor. I just needed to give him space, and then he would be fine. We both would be. Until morning, I should just stay here, I thought. Yet I found myself walking up to the hotel room door, three o’clock in the morning, local time. I could hear Bobby snoring through the door, and Sam and Winsloe speaking in hushed voices in the room across the hall. I lifted my fist to knock on the door, three quick taps, just barely loud enough to be heard over the snoring, and stepped back.

A few moments passed, and I tried to hear if anything was happening. As I leaned closer to the door, it opened, revealing a disheveled Dean, blinking against the light of the hallway. He squinted at me, and his glow came back, spreading from the middle of his chest outwards, filling the space between us. His glow came back for the first time. He said nothing, but grabbed my left shoulder and tugged me into the room, closing the door behind him. We stood and faced each other in the dark, neither of us saying anything. I noticed a bright yellow string attached to his dark grey shirt, and pulled it off slowly, watching as it seemed to snake up and over his shoulder. I held it in front of me for a moment, looking at it closely, mentally calculating where it could have come from. I looked to Dean and he was suppressing a laugh.

”Have I done something funny, Dean?”

”You’re an idiot. And I’m…I’m sorry for earlier, I was overreacting. He had a toothache is all it was, made him moody. Took some pills for it. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

”That’s okay, Dean. I understand. And I am sorry as well.”

”So are we good?”

”No, definitely not. I am still very upset.”

Worry flashed across his face, followed by sadness.

”I am very upset…because I cannot figure out where this string came from.”

He stared in awe at the string in front of us for a moment, and then noticed that I was smiling. He shook his head, and reached out to hold my waist. I jumped a little bit at the contact, not expecting it, and he laughed. The laugh that he has, where he throws his head back, mouth open, a laugh that comes from his chest and radiates outwards. I found myself being pulled forward, taking tiny steps towards him until we connected in the middle. He laughed again, and took my face in his hand. Like he had when we went to the library for research and I got barbeque sauce on my face in the car afterword. Like he had when we sat down on the couch together, sharing each other’s space. He took me in a tight embrace, head moving to rest on the left side of my neck. He gave me a squeeze, then loosened slightly. I felt his breath hot on my neck, not for the first time, but for the first time in too long. A warm pair of lips pressed against my jawbone, just beneath my ear, and I nearly buckled. Gently and first, then moving forward along my jaw, stronger with each kiss. I closed my eyes and took a mental inventory. Right hand on lower back, left hand on mid back. Body pressed close to mine. Stubble rubbing slightly against my cheek. His heart beating as quick as a rabbit, only slightly faster than mine. Then, left hand gripping the back of my coat, holding me even closer to him. Body wash, Sam’s again, because he still hadn’t bothered to go out and purchase his own. Head backing away from me, then forward again, foreheads touching. I could barely breathe, but neither could he. Swaying just slightly to the right side, trading exhales. I opened my eyes to see that he was staring directly into mine, and it startled me. He leaned over me, and my back arched in the direction he pushed me. He was there, and he was glowing, and perfect, wonderful. Beautiful and terrible, and his nose was pressed against mine. Just a centimeter closer, just barely, and he would have been kissing me.

But he didn’t.

He leaned back and chucked, removed his right hand from my back, tapped my nose lightly with his index finger.

”I’m tired, I think I’m gonna go to bed. Goodnight, Cas.”

He detached himself from me, stepping to the side, and walking away after placing one more kiss at the bottom of my neck. He climbed into bed, and didn’t look back, fell asleep within minutes. Bobby rumbled and sighed in the bed next to him, asleep during the entire ordeal. I stood in shock, unsure of what to do next.

First thing on the list: get rid of the erection I had somehow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I. Am. Such. A. Tease. :)


	26. Onwards, To California Pt. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "At some point, they began really enjoying the drive for the first time since we started."

This was not the first time I had been in my particular situation. Having a male vessel had its advantages and disadvantages. One of the many disadvantages was that it seemed to experience erections at inopportune times. Each time this happened, there was no sort of stimulant that caused it, it simply happened. This time was different, obviously. I stood there silently in the dark, listening to Bobby and Dean snore, looking down at my…predicament, and wondering what to do next. Most of the time, I could just ignore it long enough for it to go away. I considered this for a moment, and decided that a similar approach was my best bet.

I went and sat on the chair that was tucked away into the corner of the room, settling into the inexpensive foam cushion in the most comfortable way possible. I closed my eyes, let my head fall back, and began my usual routine for taking care of things.

I began to recite prime numbers.

I went slowly, tried to see each digit in my mind, written on an imaginary paper with imaginary ink. I only got to 71 until I was bored of it. I looked down at my lap, hoping the problem had gone away, but it hadn’t. I moved on to my next method, reciting the first ten verses of Genesis in my head, first in English, then eventually Latin, Enochian, and French, just for fun. My next attack was to recite the bones of the human body. I made it to the ulna in my left arm before my mind started to wander.

I thought about what it would be like if Dean ever kissed me. If he would be gentle, or aggressive. If he would hold on to me, or do his best not to. I tried not to imagine him tugging at my tie and quickly removing my layers of clothing, but I did anyways. I tried not to picture myself ripping his shirt off as well, watching his chest rise and fall in the low light, but I couldn’t resist. I could nearly feel him push me against the wall in the hallway where anyone could see us, slamming his mouth against me, greedy and wanting. Feel his hands slide across my chest, unsure of where they wanted to be, but knowing they wanted to be somewhere. I could feel his lips working down my neck when I focused enough, hot breath and wet mouth covering every inch they could. Lower down, past my chest to my stomach, nipping and biting at my hip. Eventually, he would look up, asking for permission, hands on my belt, grinning like a maniac. I wouldn’t hesitate, I would nod as quickly as I could, try to gulp down the knot in my throat, my mouth suddenly dry. He would chuckle at me, but waste no time in undoing the buckle and eventually the button and zipper. I would be able to hear him breathing heavily, almost panting like a dog, eager to please me. Hands would hastily pull down my pants, leaving them haphazardly scrunched to my knees, too impatient to waste time taking them all the way off. He would glance up at me one last time from his knees, eyes absolutely devilish as he pushed my legs apart as far as the fabric would allow. Dean would lick his perfect lips, wink at me when I put my fingers in his hair; not gingerly like before, but unapologetic, pulling him toward me. He would run his mouth along the length of me through the thin fabric as sparks shot through my spine, as I tried my best to be quiet. His fingers would find their way to the waistband of my boxers, slowly pulling them down just enough to…

Eyes squeezed shut and hands gripping the arms of the chair relentlessly, I bucked my hips up into nothing, thrusting myself wildly at empty space just once. I watched a lightshow behind my eyes, felt my lungs scream for the air I hadn’t given them in a solid minute. Tremors ripped through my abdomen, and I felt their aftershocks throughout my entire body, shaking all the way to my fingertips. Toes curled into the carpet, all I could focus on was the sensation. The pure, unfiltered pleasure that pulsed through me. I let it run its course, holding on to it as long as I possibly could. I gradually came down, back and hips falling into the chair, muscles relaxing into the cheap cushions. I loosened my grip on the chair, and unclenched my teeth, sinking even lower into myself in pure exhaustion.

I opened my eyes to look at the ceiling, chest heaving, I quickly shot up in my seat, looking to see if Bobby and Dean were still asleep, which they were, thankfully. Suddenly aware of how loud I was breathing, I shut my mouth to breathe through my nose, which was only slightly quieter. The realization of what just happened hit me suddenly. The thing that I had just experienced for the first time…imagining Dean. Part of me wanted to feel ashamed, but I couldn’t be. I couldn’t understand how something that felt like that could be shameful. I never had to tell him. I never had to tell anybody. I could keep this moment to myself forever.

I became uncomfortable, and went to the bathroom to clean myself up, changing into sweatpants and a black t-shirt, both that Dean had given to me. I cleaned my clothes, and then folded them and set them in the corner of the room with the rest of my belongings; my other change of clothes, the book Dean gave me, and the angel blade. I looked at the chair again, not wanting to sit back down into, due to its lack of comfort. Dean snored lightly behind me, and I had an idea, a foolish one.

I almost decided not to, but then I gave it some thought. I would be out of the bed again before he woke up, he wouldn’t know I was there. He wouldn’t know I had ever been there to start with. I could carefully get into the bed next to him, and he wouldn’t notice, I chanted to myself as I walked over and gently pulled the blanket away next to him. He continued to snore, so I took it as a sign to proceed. I climbed, very delicately and slowly, into the bed, pausing when the mattress creaked beneath me. I made sure to keep at least a foot between us, in case he rolled over or moved. I settled in, folding my hands and placing them across my chest, allowing myself to finally relax. He never had to know, I told myself, I would be gone before he woke up.

”Cas?”

I froze, not daring to breathe. Maybe he talked in his sleep?

”Seriously, dude.”

I watched his back, waited for him to tell me to leave.

”I’m sorry.”

He groaned and rolled over to face me, squinting up at me, probably waiting for his eyes to adjust. For a moment I thought he was angry, but he wasn’t. He was smiling at me.

”I shouldn’t have woken you, Dean. I apologize.”

”Ugh, shut up.”

”I’m sorry.”

”By saying sorry, you aren’t shutting up.”

”I’m- okay.”

I started to leave the bed, but he groaned at me again.

”I’m not saying you have to go.”

”Do you want me to stay?”

He thought about it for a moment, staring up at me. Even though it was dark, I could still see his eyes, that bright green against white against dark eyelashes. He sighed, and rolled back over.

”Goodnight, Cas.”

I listened in the silence as his breaths became even again, as he started snoring again. And so we stayed like that for the rest of the night, him facing the other direction, asleep, and me a foot away from him, staring at the ceiling, impatiently waiting for sunrise. Halfway through, I decided to reach over and press the first knuckle of my pinky into his shoulder, very gently, so that he would not have any pain when he woke up. I remained like that, allowing my grace to trickle out into him, an IV drip of myself.

~~~

”Damn, what a view, kids. Would you look at that?”

I looked up from my book to Winsloe, who was pointing out the window at the horizon, other hand still on the steering wheel.

”There’s nothing there.”

”Oh, come on Dean, don’t be such a pessimist. You’ve got your dirt, and your rocks…and yeah, that’s it. That’s all there’s been for the past million miles, just fucking dirt and rocks and the occasional fucking snake!”

Dean chuckled next to her, and looked back to me.

”Yeah, welcome to Nevada, princess. Whole lotta nothing.”

”Do people even live out here? How do they, it’s fifty thousand degrees?!

”You even been this far west, Win?”

”No, and now I know why. This place is like-“

She was abruptly cut off by a sharp static noise from the radio.

”That’s another thing. Radio goes out every other second. Ugh. I guess it’s tape time again, huh?”

”You know, you got mad at me yesterday for being so irritable. Now do you see? You can only stare at black asphalt for so long until you lose your mind.”

”Shut up, Dean.”

”I don’t know, that sounds like irritability to me.” 

”Shut. Up. Dean. Would you hand me my bag, Cas? Should be next to you in the floor.”

I picked it up, and it was heavier than I expected. She took it from me, and stuck her tongue out at Dean.

”See, Cas does what I ask him to. Because he’s nice. And cooler than you. And not an asshole.”

”You know, if you’re trying to start a fight, or make me mad at you, it’s not happening. I’m in a wonderful mood, unlike some of us, not gonna name any names. And besides, need I remind you again that I am your favorite asshole?”

She scowled at him for a moment, but smiled and leaned in to kiss his cheek.

”I hate you. I also love you.”

”Yeah, yeah. Play the tape.”

”Okay, right. So I’ve got the rest of that Kooks tape, if you want to listen to that…uh…okay, The Smiths, The Black Keys…”

”The Black Keys are alright. Brothers?”

”Of course. Is that okay with you, Cas?”

The both glanced back to me, but I didn’t say anything.

”Great, glad to hear it. Here we go"

She put the tape in, and music started playing. We were all silent for a moment, and then Dean started to play the drum beat against the dashboard. The singer began, and Winsloe belted out the words along with him.

_”Let me be your everlasting light,”_

Dean laughed at her, and they sang the next line together.

_”Sun when there is none…I’m a shepherd for you, and I’ll guide you through, let me be your everlasting light.”_

They were both laughing now, Winsloe also drumming the beat onto the steering wheel with her thumbs. They sang the rest of the song, as well as the rest of the songs on the tape. At some point, they windows were rolled down, and the volume was turned up to almost maximum. At some point, they began really enjoying the drive for the first time since we started.

~~~

When we pulled up to the hotel, Winsloe opened her door and, again, ran up to Sam. High fives were exchanged as well as some exuberant cries of ‘we made it’ at no one in particular. We gathered together in front of the cars, and looked to Bobby.

”This is it, guys. We came all this way for this. It’s gotta be tomorrow night, we have to get this done. Gabriel was even polite enough to drop in and give us an address.”

”Where exactly is he getting his intel from, huh?”

”I don’t know, and I don’t particularly care. It’s about 15 miles away, amazingly enough. A little house in the suburbs. We gonna rest up, be prepared, okay? We all go to bed right now, and I’m not getting up until at least noon. Come on.”

He leaned in close to us, and lowered his voice.

”By this time tomorrow, every last Kalite will be dead. They won’t know what hit them.”


	27. The Kalites

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "No one dared breathe that day, for fear of something unknown. They shared glances, they walked carefully from room to room, but said nothing. They knew that what followed would be terrible, and that there would be pain. It wasn’t a matter of ‘if’, but more of a ‘how bad’. A silence like that is much sharper than any noisy, bloodied battlefield. The silence that precedes the battle is much bloodier."

Very seldom in my existence have I experienced a silence such as the one on the following day. Piercing and cold, it made your ears ring. No one dared breathe that day, for fear of something unknown. They shared glances, they walked carefully from room to room, but said nothing. They knew that what followed would be terrible, and that there would be pain. It wasn’t a matter of ‘if’, but more of a ‘how bad’. A silence like that is much sharper than any noisy, bloodied battlefield. The silence that precedes the battle is much bloodier.

We waited for Bobby in the motel room, glancing around at each other. Winsloe sat in Sam’s lap, curled into him. He rested his head on hers, jaw set, in a position of protection I knew well. If some danger had come through the window and attacked at that moment, I would pity it, because it had no way of knowing the wrath that Sam would bring upon it. He stared mostly at Dean, offering the same protection, but not physically. The Winchester had a certain unspoken language none of us knew. They spoke in furrowed brows and watery eyes that never spilled over, in tense backs and clenched fists. They both knew what lie ahead in that they didn’t know at all, and the fear and protection was there, simply not as physical as the one between Winsloe and Sam. She was clenched tight to his chest, breathing something into his chest that only he could hear, and that was the most frightening part.

The two brothers each sat on unmade beds, facing each other, eyes never leaving each other. They had done this many times before, had fought things so much worse than witches, but the intensity was there, always there. Dean thinking of how to best protect his brother and keep him alive, Sam thinking of how he also had to protect Dean, who didn’t think he needed the help. This static hung between them, buzzing like a fluorescent light. Everyone felt it, and everyone respected that it didn’t need to be talked about.

Bobby entered the room at last, and we all looked up at him.

”We’re ready.”

We began to follow him out the door, but a small voice came from behind us.

”Wait, guys.”

We turned to see Winsloe standing, tucked into Sam’s side again.

”I need to tell you something.”

Dean to a step toward her, and Sam all but pushed himself in front of her as a human shield, which earned an odd look from Dean.

”Can it wait until after?”

”Not really.”

She stopped then, and we waited for her to continue. She shook slightly, clenching her hands into the hem of her shirt to keep them still.

”First off, I need you to know that I’m so…so sorry that I didn’t tell you earlier. Things were going so well, and I actually never was going to tell you. You guys have been so wonderful to me, and you deserve to know the truth.”

I looked back and Bobby and Dean, and they looked a mixture of angry, curious, and frightened.

”The woman we’re going after, her name is Felicity Kalite. She goes by Madame Kalite, and she is more powerful than you can understand. We’ve…we’ve met before, so to speak. We will also be facing her four daughters; Jasmine, Alexandria, Marella, and Koralynn. They are small, and fast, and not to be overlooked or underestimated. Together, they are more powerful than Madame Kalite herself.”

”How d’you know this, exactly, if you don’t mind telling us.”

”I don’t want you to be angry, you have to know that I’m sorry.”

Her voice broke slightly, and Sam held her even tighter.

”Felicity Kalite is my mother. I was born into the Kalite clan.”

Dean charged forward then, and Bobby and I had to hold him back.

”You killed all of those people?!?”

”Dean, no, they abandoned me, I’ve never killed an innocent person in my life, I swear!”

”What the hell is that supposed to mean, huh? You only kill sometimes, when the mood hits? And then you get with my brother, posing as a hunter, like it’s a game? When were you planning on slaughtering us, you sick bitch!?”

”Just let her explain, Dean. You have to calm down.”

The look Dean gave Sam was curious at first, and then grew angry in a matter of a second.

”You knew?! Jesus, Sammy, sleeping with the enemy much? What the hell makes you think that’s okay? There is not explaining, it’s just betrayal! You of all people should know about that.”

Dean began thrashing in our arms again, trying to get at the both of them, when Winsloe finally stepped forward and spoke up.

”Would you shut up and listen to me, you ignorant little jerk?! Jesus! If you would give me half a second to explain, maybe shit would start making sense, okay?

Dean glared, but said nothing, and began to relax gradually.

”I was shoved into a life I didn’t want okay? It’s not my fault I was born the daughter of a witch. She trained me from age three, killing bugs at first. Little things. As I got older, she forced me to kill bigger and bigger things, rabbits and stray cats, and eventually deer and bears. All with words, all with my mind. I got pretty good, and she was proud of me for a while. Then, that night I told you about. She took us to kill a human for the first time, and I couldn’t do it. She took it as a sign of weakness, that I needed to be left behind, but not before she killed all those people. I threatened to expose her, so she took me back to that house and locked me inside, bewitched the doors and walls to never break, the windows to never shatter. I was stranded in there, and I conserved my energy, sat and meditated for a month and made my way out. From then on I hunted. Witches, and vamps, and anything else I could get my hands on. I haven’t used any powers since the day I got out of that house, and I never will again. I don’t want to become that. I took that part of myself and buried it, became something else entirely. Became someone who saved people instead of killing them. All that’s left is them, the rest of my family, and then it will all be over.”

”Why didn’t you tell us?”

She looked up from Dean to Bobby, surprised by him speaking so suddenly.

”What would you have said? I was scared to. And I know that’s a shit excuse, and I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I know I’ll probably never make up for that.”

”You know, Sam has something he says sometimes, and it’s true. It doesn’t matter who you are, it only matters what you do. Isn’t that right, Sam?”

”Yes.”

”Wait, so you aren’t angry?”

”No, actually. I kinda understand. That whole ‘don’t want to put the people you love in danger’ thing, I get it. Dean should get it too.”

Winsloe walked up to Dean, and reached up to hold his face. He flinched, but didn’t turn away.

”I hope you know that I never meant any harm. I would never hurt any of you, and I would never hurt your brother. Because that’s what you’re really mad about. Right now you see me as a threat, something that could potentially injure Sam, but I need you to know that I could never…okay? You want to keep Sammy safe, I get that. I felt the same way with my sisters, watched each of them get corrupted, one by one by our mother, and I still feel guilt for that. I know what it means. So, just please understand. I’m begging you. I am not your enemy, they are. I want to kill that bitch at least ten times as much as you do.”

They stood and stared at each other for a minute, shared a look that was lost to me. It’s fair to say we were all surprised when Winsloe slowly wrapped her arms around him, nuzzling her face into his chest. He tensed up, almost pulled away from her, but stopped. He looked down, and hugged her back. I heard a sigh of relief from Sam as they stood and held each other for a moment, before retreating.

”Thank you so much. Just…thank you, Dean.”

He looked at her again, and then turned to the rest of us.

”Let’s go get this done.”

~~~

As we pulled into the small neighborhood, we reached that level of quiet again. It was a very warm night, and we drove forward in silence, the windows of the Impala rolled down. I looked out at the houses, and they were silent. These were normal people, just a normal neighborhood. Middle class Americans, working to provide for their families, living an average life, completely oblivious to the danger that slept just a street away. 

We parked a street away, deciding to go the rest of the way on foot. We went to the trunk and equipped ourselves with guns, knives, and the like. Dean reached in and grabbed one last bag, opening it and handing an item to each of us. Bobby held his up and stared at it.

”Respirators?”

”Just trust me.”

A flash of understanding swept across Winsloe’s face, and she reached over to grip Dean’s hand. She whispered a solemn ‘I’m so sorry’, and we began walking.

Bobby lead us as we walked silently down the barely-lit street, listening to the sound of televisions inside the houses and sprinklers running a block away. After a minute, Bobby looked back at us to stop us, and pointed ahead at a house just like the others. We took the order and quickly crossed the street, everyone else putting on their respirators as they reached the front porch. Sam silently stepped ahead and crouched down to pick the lock. We glanced around at each other once more, checking respirators and cocking guns.

”Cas, where is your respirator?”

”It doesn’t affect me. I think it’s only a human toxin.”

Sam stood and nodded once at us, and we entered.

It was dark, and completely normal. A staircase lead up to a second floor, and a living room to our right, with a kitchen and dining room towards the back of the house. Bobby signaled for Sam and Dean to check the bottom floor while he and Winsloe checked upstairs. He told me to say and make sure no one approached from outside. I stood alone at the front door, waited for a minute, and then two, for them to return, which they did at the same time. Bobby shook his head no, and so did Dean. The house was clear. We stood for a moment, wondering what to do next, until Winsloe pointed to the basement door. We walked to it, and I turned the handle seeing that it was unlocked, and led to a staircase down to the basement, which was glowing faintly. Dean led us as we silently walked down into it. I drew my angel blade, and prepared myself mentally. The burning hospital, the salt mine, everything had led up to this. 

A voice came from inside the basement, low and bemused.

”You know, Winnie, you should knock. I taught you better than that.”

We faced them, the Kalites. The five of them, standing shoulder to shoulder at the other side of the basement. There were candles glowing around us, hundreds of them, their light dancing against their faces. A tall woman with pale white skin stood in the center, contrasting her jet black clothes, a simple shirt and pants. She held herself with a sense of authority, shoulders back and back straight. To her right were two younger women that looked almost identical. On her right, another set of twins. All of them had Winsloe’s piercing green eyes that seemed to glow in the low light. They stood together, smiling at us, amused at our presence.

”Great to see you again, Mommy. You look absolutely murderous.”

”Take those off, I can barely understand you. Haven’t left you any pollen this time, I promise.”

Winsloe began to take of her respirator, and Bobby reached forward to stop her.

”It’s okay, guys. Take them off. I would be able to see the pollen if there was any.”

”Where’s your backup, lady? Gonna call them anytime soon?”

Dean took a step forward, dropping his respirator to the ground.

”What backup, sweetheart? You’re looking at it.”

”Bullshit, the five of you? Your whole coven has to be at least fifty.”

”No, just us. Pretty impressive right? Don’t look so surprised, babe. You’ll understand better by the end of the evening. And besides, where are the introductions? Winnie, who are your friends?”

”Doesn’t matter.”

”Of course it does! Well fine, if you have to be like that. I’m Felicity, welcome to my home.”

”Why we gotta draw this out, huh? I’ve got dinner reservations, can we just do this thing?”

She looked to Bobby and smiled.

”I think you need to have some respect, honey. I haven’t seen my daughter, I just want to catch up.”

”I don’t have anything to say to you.”

”Not even sorry, for betraying your own mother, you unappreciative little rat?”

”You’re a murderer!”

”I’m a survivalist! I do what I have to in order to get by. It’s a dog-eat-dog world, and I tried to teach you that. I’m just trying to put us at the top of the food chain.”

”You’re sick.”

Winsloe took a few steps forward, and Sam almost dove after her, but Dean stopped him.

”Am I sick? I just want the best for my daughters! We could have lived that life together, the five of us! We could have been great! We could have taken everything we wanted. We still can. I just want my girl back. My sweet girl, my Winsloe. My firstborn, I love you, you know that.”

They met in the middle of the room, a foot away from each other. The other four witches stood back the entire time.

”You know I have to kill you now, Mommy.”

”What, are you one of them now? A hunter? Oh, you can do better than them.”

”I’m so sorry.”

Winsloe pulled a knife from her belt, lunging at her mother. Madame Kalite caught it in her hand, blood dripping down it as she laughed.

”You’re slower than I remember. Go ahead girls. Have fun.

In an instant the room was thrown into a flurry of action, the four witches stalking towards us. Behind me, I heard Dean mutter “I got the short one” to someone, presumably Sam, who chuckled. Bobby was thrown against a wall by one of them, and I ran to his aid, but was stopped by another, who snarled at me. I slashed forward with my blade, and she disappeared into thin air. I was suddenly being choked from behind and I fell backwards on to her. Every time I tried to smite her, she disappeared, only to reappear somewhere else. After a minute of chasing her I was able to pin her down with my hands at her throat. One last look of fear flashed through her eyes right before she died with my blade to her chest. I stood to survey the room, and was surprised by what I saw.

Dean was struggling with a woman against the wall, before he retrieved his gun from his belt and held it to her head, brain splattering against the concrete as her body slumped to the floor. Bobby was on the ground with one on the other side of the room, suffocating her with his hands around her throat. Winsloe and Madame Kalite where nowhere to be found. One last witch stood before us, as we all turned to face her. Thinking she would attack, we stepped forward, only for her to flee, trying to get up the stairs. Sam ran after her and grabbed at her ankle, pinning her to the bottom stair before plunging his knife into her, a strangled sound leaving her throat. We stood and took a breath, looking around to the carnage. All at once, they realized who was missing, and ran up the stairs.

I arrived just in time to watch Winsloe slit her mother’s throat, pushing her dead body out of her lap and onto the kitchen floor. Winsloe’s chest was heaving as she watched her mother twitch and bleed out on the tile, face down. She looked up to us, battered and bleeding, leaning against the refrigerator, surrounded by broken dishes and pieces of destroyed chairs and lamps.

”It’s over.”


	28. Too Heavy For Your Shoulders Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Winsloe had to be carried inside that night."

Winsloe had to be carried inside that night.

In the car, there was complete silence. She sat next to me in the car that night, trying to clean herself up with no success with an old rag. She kept her head down, and it was dark, but she sniffled every once in a while, so I knew she was crying. Sam was on my other side, watching her intently, as if something would happen if he glanced away. I could not begin to understand the pain she was in, but I could see how it affected everyone else.

When we arrived at the hotel, we all exited the car except Winsloe. I shook her gently, and she pulled away from me. I looked up to Sam, and he jogged around to the side of the car to get her. When he opened the door, she struggled against him, pounding her small fists into his chest and letting out small noises of pain until she finally collapsed into him. Bobby ushered Dean inside, and I soon followed. I glanced back to see Sam, strong arms wrapped around a shaking body, tears flowing openly from both of them now. Throughout it all, Sam never said a word, expression never faltered, just marched her inside.

I sat at the end of Dean’s bed as Sam retreated into the bathroom with her, closing the door behind them. Bobby had gone back out to the store to make a few purchases, so Dean and I were alone. It was quiet at first, but he cleared his throat and addressed me.

”You did good back there.”

I looked to him, but he was looking down at his hands.

”Thank you, so did you.”

”Thanks.”

I immediately understood that he was trying to make small talk, trying to ease the tension that had built up. 

”Do you think she is going to be okay?”

”Yes, she will be fine”

We were silent for a moment, and we heard some muffled cries from the bathroom, a distinct female voice. I stood then and removed my coat, placing it at the end of his bed.

”I should go help.”

Dean started to question me, but I walked away before he could get anything out. I knocked on the bathroom door three times, and the noises stopped. After a second or two, Sam opened the door.

”Yeah?”

”May I please speak to Winsloe? If it’s not too much to ask.”

”Uh, I don’t really think that now is a good-“

”Let him in, oh my god.”

Sam looked back at her, then to me. He sighed, and let me squeeze past him. He looked confused as I shut the door behind him, but I turned back to Winsloe. She had a tissue in each hand, and she looked completely disheveled. When she looked at me, she laughed.

”Did you just shut the door in his face?”

”Uh, yes I believe I did.”

She laughed at me then, and sat on the side of the bathtub. I closed the toilet seat, and sat down as well. We were silent for a moment then, but I spoke up first.

”Are you going to be okay, Winsloe?”

Her face scrunched up, but she was smiling at me. It was strange to see that amount of conflicting emotion.

”I killed my mother tonight.”

”She was a bad person, if that helps.”

”Not as much as it should.”

”Oh.”

She looked up to the ceiling and took a deep breath, reaching over to turn the shower on.

”Her blood is all over me. It’s everywhere, Cas. I’m never going to be able to wash it all off, not really.”

”I know. There is a bright side. Would you like to hear it?”

She looked down at me again, that same mixture of amusement and sorrow fighting for dominance in her eyes.

”Okay.”

”All of the people she killed have been avenged.”

”I guess you’re right.”

”Also, she can never kill again. You proactively saved countless lives.”

”Yeah.”

”I hope you know how brave you were tonight, Winsloe. I’m not sure I would have been able to do the same, given the same circumstances. We all understand why you are upset, and all that you gave up tonight. I hope you know that you did the right thing.”

She stood then, and took the one step toward me. I thought for a moment that she was angry, and that I had said the wrong thing. I was surprised when she grabbed both of my cheeks and kissed my forehead. She let go, and stepped, fully clothed, into the shower, where I heard her crying again. I hesitated for a moment, and then followed her in, the water making my clothes heavy. She looked up at me for a moment, completely destroyed. She had to be feeling some sort of guilt for what she did, even though she really shouldn’t have. I pulled her toward me in an embrace, and she buried her face into my chest. I focused on the points where we were touching, and healed her the best I could. Her sorrow was heavy, but I think I helped. I think standing in the shower, our clothes soaking wet, holding her in my arms helped more than my grace ever could.

~~~

That night, I slept in the same bed as her. Sam had seen the almost instant improvement she had made, and decided it would be best if she spent a night with me, and he could sleep in Bobby and Dean’s room. She curled in close to me and fell asleep clutching my arm. I let my grace trickle into her, just as I had let it trickle into Dean before. As the night went on, her breaths became deeper and her muscles relaxed. I knew that now that this was over, she could recover, and she would be better than she had ever been. That weight would be lifted from her, that sense of hatred and need for revenge finally fulfilled. She didn’t react to it as positively as she had planned, but it was a starting point. She slept next to me, needing me in a way that she wouldn’t admit to herself, that I wouldn’t admit to either. It felt like cheating, it felt like drugging, the way I let my grace influence her. It was like a morphine drip for her, a sort of high to escape what she had been experiencing. Whatever it was, I let it happen, because she needed it. I wanted her to be better, so this is what I had to do.

~~~

At breakfast the next morning, she was noticeably brighter. She wasn’t as pale as the night before, and she seemed to be getting better, her appetite returning right away as she devoured her second omelet. The rest of us were glad to see she was doing better, but we still didn’t react right away. I think we were all afraid she would be triggered by something we said, Sam especially. He crowded her as he had before, with a sense of urgency. None of us said much, until Winsloe finished eating.

”When do we leave for Malibu?”

Bobby set down his coffee and looked her square in the face.

”What do you mean?”

”I mean, we agreed upon Malibu. For a week. And my new swimsuit is collecting dust, so we should get a move on.”

”I don’t mean to instigate, but are you sure you don’t wanna take a rain check? You know, after everything?”

She faltered for a moment, but rebounded quickly.

”What, take time to mourn? No. I think we should still go.”

”You seemed pretty broken up about it last night is all I’m saying.”

”I don’t need to spend another second being influenced by her, especially now that she’s dead. I was in shock last night, but look at me, I’m fine.

”As long as your sure.”

”Come on, I’m sure. I think I’ve earned a vacation, guys.”

”Well alright. Is that okay with everyone else?”

If smiles were a spectrum, Dean was on one side and Sam was on the other. Dean had a small grin at the corner of his mouth, obviously glad that Winsloe was better, but not wanting to show it. Sam, on the other hand, was beaming, openly pleased by Winsloe’s turn around. It was obvious that if she was happy, he would be happy too.

”Well alright. Let’s go back, get our stuff, and go.”

We got up to leave, and Winsloe pulled me back into a quick hug, muttering a ‘thank you so much Castiel’ into my shoulder, before letting go and following Sam and Bobby. Dean came over to my side, and nudged me. 

”What was that all about, lover boy?”

”I was just helping a friend.”

”You know to keep your paws off my brother’s girl, right?”

He sounded angry, but he was smiling. And laughing. And brushing his hand past mine, probably on purpose. And glowing. I nudged him back, harder, and he laughed again.

”You’re a good guy, Cas. Win isn’t the only one who sees it.”

I smiled back, and he slung his arm around me, leading me out the door.

”Let’s go to the beach, shall we?


	29. Bliss, Present Tense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ”Cas? Cas, come on in!”  
> I hesitated, still only ankle-deep in water. The others began calling to me as well.  
> ”Aw, come on Cas. Have you ever been to the beach?

We stood with our bags at the front gate of the sprawling mansion in front of us. The rest of them were awestruck.

”Bobby, remind me again how we’re staying here?”

”Buddy of mine got a huge inheritance after his grandparents died. Real estate or overseas stocks or somethin’. They were loaded, obviously. So he and his wife come here in the winter. He’s letting us stay here. Owes me a favor or two.”

”This place is huge.”

”Really, Dean? I hadn’t noticed.”

”I just…”

”Christian Bale lives the next street over.”

”Really?”

”No. Let’s go in, huh?”

We approached the door, and Bobby fumbled in his bag. I looked over to Sam, and he was smirking.

”Not the brightest, huh? I see no salt line.”

”Mixed into the concrete of the front walkway.”

Winsloe chuckled and shoved Sam’s shoulder.

”Not the brightest though, right Sam?”

Bobby finally found the keys and started to unlock the several deadbolts on the door.

”My idea, by the way, Sam. Respect your damn elders.”

He opened the door, and we walked inside. The house was extravagant, decorated in golds and blacks. The floors were a deeply colored wood throughout, and an ornate black chandelier hung above us. To the right of the foyer was a staircase leading to the top floor of the house. To the left was the kitchen and living areas. There were more rooms that I could not see on the other part of the bottom floor that I decided I would investigate later. I followed the rest of the group into the living area, where Sam and Dean were already setting up video games on the large television. The far wall of the living area was almost entirely made of windows, with a door that led out to a back porch. I walked over to Winsloe, who was looking out at the view of many other sizable houses, which eventually let out onto the coast. She looked up to me, grinning, her nose crinkling up as she did. 

”It’s so beautiful here. Look at that sunset.”

I followed where she was pointing back to the window. I looked, and saw that sunset. The sun was hanging just above the ocean, and there were pink and purple-dusted clouds above. The way they were stretched out across the sky, it seemed as though they were trying to chase the sun over the horizon. It was very beautiful, one of the most beautiful sunsets I had seen in a very long time.

”Yes. I prefer sunrises.”

”Why is that, Cas?”

”It’s difficult to explain.”

”Try.”

She looked up at me, genuinely waiting for an answer.

”I’ve seen a lot of endings. Endings of wars, endings of battles. Endings of lives. I think that the beginnings of things are more interesting. You are unsure of that things future, you are just watching it form and grow, take shape right in front of you. At the ending of a day, it’s all happened already. Everything about that day is a memory. But at the beginning of a day, anything can happen. It’s new, and it’s unknown. A sunset represents an ending. A sunrise represents a beginning.

She looked back out the window, and leaned her head against me.

”You are a funny little man, Castiel.”

”I suppose I am.”

We stood like that for a moment until she spoke again, and it startled me.

”Let’s go check out the rest of the house, yeah?”

Before I could respond, she had taken my hand in hers, and was dragging me across the living area. I apologized to the boys for walking in front of their game, and I heard Sam laughing behind me. I looked over to Bobby in the kitchen, setting out various bags of chips on the counter, digging in a cabinet for a big bowl. I was pulled from that area, and up the stairs. I was still curious about what rooms were on the other side of the staircase, but I was still being pulled. We investigated the various extravagant bedrooms and bathrooms together, deciding who would get what room. Winsloe jumped on beds, whipped open closets, and ran showers while I observed and waited for her to drag me to the next room. Winsloe looked at something behind me, and I turned around to see Dean leaning against the doorjamb, smiling and glowing, bright and warm.

”Cool place huh, Win?”

”For sure. This one is Bobby’s room. Next one is the guest bathroom, then is your room. Sam and I are downstairs. Because we’ll probably be the loudest.”

”You have no problem talking about that openly with me, do you?”

”I have no problem talking about that openly with anyone. Who cares if he’s your brother?”

”Me. I don’t need to hear about…ugh.”

”Yeah, whatever.”

He directed his focus to me, catching me off guard. I tried not to stare, but it was difficult.

”Where are you sleeping, Cas?”

He raised an eyebrow when Winsloe stepped forward.

”I figured he would be staying with-“

”I don’t sleep, and I don’t have any belongings. I don’t really need a room. I’ll sit and wait on the couch.”

”You sure?”

They spoke in unison, and then exchanged knowing looks I didn’t understand. I was used to it by then.

”Well alright. I’m already pretty tired, think I’m gonna turn in. Goodnight, Cas.”

”What am I, chopped liver?”

Dean was already leaving, but he turned back and blinked a few times.

”Right, yeah, you too, Win.”

He disappeared into the hallway, and Winsloe stepped past me as well.

”Any day now.”

”What?”

”Goodnight, funny man.”

I was left alone in the room, unsure of what to do with myself for the millionth time.

~~~

We stood in the sand, side by side. Towels in hand, bags on shoulders. On my left, Winsloe blew a bubble in her gum, and it popped against her face. Dean puffed out his chest to my right, and exhaled slowly.

”The beach, huh?”

A few families swam and sat in the sand about a hundred yards to the left of us, but we had found a part of the beach that was mostly secluded.

”Yes, I think it is. Should I maybe get some surfboard rentals?”

”Come again?”

”I’ve been waiting my whole life to watch you fall off a board. Or Sam.”

”Did you used to surf, Bobby?”

”Sure did. I’m too old and fat now, but back in the day, hell yeah. Every Saturday.”

”Huh. Yeah, grab a few I guess.”

Bobby left, and the rest of us stayed put. I felt underdressed in a white shirt and a pair of yellow swim trunks that Winsloe insisted on buying me ‘so we would match’. I could feel the hot sand working its way into my shoes, and I wanted to take them off. The sand was pleasant, but not combined with the shoes. Suddenly, Winsloe ran around to Sam and jumped on his back.

”Forward, noble steed!

Sam ran with her on his back the thirty feet into the ocean, laughing and almost falling over a few times as he sunk into the sand with each step, kicking some up as he went. She giggled and clung to him, until he toppled over and splashed into the water with her in tow.

I looked over to Dean, and he was smiling then. He held his elbow out for me to hold, and laughed.

”Shall we?”

I decided not to hold him, but I did walk forward next to him. It was a bright day, and he squinted against the sun. I watched him, so out of his natural habitat. He was wearing a similar outfit to mine, but with black swim trunks. He seemed to fit into his surroundings so easily, quickly adapting to them. I watched that weight fall off of him, that sense of tension that plagued him at all times. The worry and the fear, the need for alertness just melted off, and he seemed happy. So happy for the first time. Even in the bright light I could tell that he was glowing, like a walking talking sun right next to me. We approached the water, our now bare feet sinking into the damp sand, water rushing around our ankles. Dean pulled his shirt off and tossed it behind him, to the general area in which Winsloe and Sam had left their belongings. He stood next to me, bare and bright and wonderful, slowly trudging his way into the water where he was joined by Sam. They waited a moment, waited for Dean to react.

”Yeah?”

The water was now to his waist, and he pushed his hands around under the surface.

”Yeah, I guess.”

They cheered, and Sam reached to shake his hand. Dean quirked an eyebrow, still smiling, as he took it. Sam yanked him, and he stumbled into the water, going completely under the surface for a moment. He came back up, pushing the hair out of his face and spitting water out of his mouth. I thought he would be angry, but he turned to wrestle playfully with Sam. They laughed and splashed around, eventually both going under. I watched this scene unfold in front of me, and smiled, until Winsloe called out to me.

”Cas? Cas, come on in!”

I hesitated, still only ankle-deep in water. The others began calling to me as well.

”Aw, come on Cas. Have you ever been to the beach?”

”Never for recreational purposes.”

”Can you swim?”

”Yes.”

”So get your feathery ass out here, you’ll love it. Even Dean, grumpiest asshole alive, loves it.”

”Hey!”

I waited a moment, and took a few steps forward. The waves washed around my legs, and I stopped.

”Cas, off with the shirt, into the water, come on.”

”That’s okay. I like it here. Thank you for the kind offer.”

And then Dean was wading over to me. He approached me, and didn’t hesitate for a moment before grabbing the hem of my shirt and pulling it up and over my head. My heart raced, and I looked to him. He was looking at me and grinning, going back up to the sand to place my shirt with the other belongings. He was at my side again, unbearably close to me. He leaned in close to me and breathed into my ear.

”Don’t make me carry you.”

Before I could resist, I was being scooped up into his arms and carried out into the ocean. I looked up at him, and he was grinning from ear to ear. I heard Sam and Winsloe applauding behind me, as Dean lowered me into the water, which went up to the center of my chest. It was cold at first, but my vessel adjusted.

”You good?”

”Yes, I am good.”

”Good.”

I was then grabbed and pulled into the water. I felt around for him, tried to find his arm again, and when I did he pulled me up. I found myself making a noise between a sputter from the water I consumed and a laugh. 

”You okay?”

I looked out at the faces all around me, their laughs mirroring mine. And yes, I was very okay.

~~~

Over the course of the day, I tried many new things. I sat on Deans shoulders and fought in the water with Winsloe. I ate my very first snowcone. I went on a surfboard, falling off repeatedly. I did, however, stay on longer than Dean, and especially Sam. Sam wobbled and fell over almost immediately, and so did Winsloe. Bobby refused to get on the board, much to our dismay. The entire day, Dean stayed very close to me, making contact with me when he didn’t necessarily need to. He hovered around me for once, which was refreshing. We swam, splashed, and laid in the sun to dry off before running and jumping into the water again. It was the happiest I had ever seen any of them, and I never wanted it to end. It was the happiest I had ever been. "Bliss", I think they call it.

As the sun set, we began to pack up and return the boards. Sam and Winsloe waded out into the water one last time, holding each other and swaying. I smiled at them, then returned to my work of packing up the bag. Dean pulled his shirt back over his head, and tossed mine to me, smiling. I saw part of Dean that I hadn’t seen before. Pure, absolute happiness and ease with me he never had before. Stealing glances and laughing at my jokes about fish. Like a couple on a television show. If I had brought it up, he would have called it ‘corny’. In reality, he was the corny one.

He fell asleep in my lap on the ride back.


	30. Shared Spaces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "... Just get in the bed."

I arbitrarily ran my fingers through Dean’s damp hair, not even realizing I was doing it. He didn’t stir at all during the short ride back to the vacation house, and Sam, who was driving, was silent, and I had time to think. I thought of how far we had come, the two of us. Back when I first realized my feelings for Dean, something this personal, this intimate could have never happened. It was so out of character for Dean, I still couldn’t get past it. A righteous man with a tough exterior and a stoic personality laid his head on my lap, arms crossed. It also comforted me to know that I had some part in that. I was the only one other than Sam who made him like this, and even then, the instances with his brother were few and far between. I had dug beneath some part of him to this different Dean, and I was enjoying it. I no longer feared how long this would last, if he would retreat from me again. Maybe I should have been suspicious, just to be sure, but like Dean, I simply didn’t care anymore.

”Hey, Cas?”

The voice from the driver’s seat was almost a whisper.

”Yes, Sam?”

”He seems happier, right? It’s not just me?”

I looked down to him, still fast asleep.

”He does.”

”It’s you. You know that, right?”

”I suppose.”

”He’s happy because of you.”

”Really?”

”Of course. No one really does that to him.”

”Does what?”

”Makes him open, and relaxed, and all of that. I’ve been trying to get through to him our whole lives. He acts like it’s better not to feel anything. And yeah, maybe it makes you weak sometimes, if you let it take you over. But it doesn’t make you incapable, or stupid. And it sure as hell doesn’t make you less of a man. He was kinda wired to be that solid guy, the steady one who never let emotion cloud his judgment. I think he finally realizes that you can have both. You can be strong, but you can also be happy.”

”I’m glad I make him happy.”

”You really do love him, don’t you, Cas?”

”Yes, I really do. I love him very much.”

”I know. You have to really commit, then.”

”What do you mean?”

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel and cleared his throat.

”You can’t just leave. You can’t just poof away, Cas. If you plan on leaving, ever, you need to tell him that. If you just disappear…”

”I won’t leave. I never want to leave. You know, if you all would have me, I would like to stay. I can help on hunts, or gather information. Whatever you needed me to do. I want to stay with you all. I want to stay with Dean. If he wouldn’t mind. It’s odd, really. How much things have changed. I used to feel such loyalty and dedication to heaven, and now…they can get along without me. I want to be here, or rather, I want to be wherever he is. I want to go where he goes and do what he does. If I am not a bother to him.”

He looked at me in the rear view mirror, and began laughing.

”Have I said something funny, Sam?”

”Nah, it’s just. You’re in deep man. I get it, I am too. I can totally relate.”

”Do you feel that way about Winsloe?”

”You know, I think I do.”

We pulled into the driveway of the rental house and parked in the garage. Bobby’s truck was already there, and he and Winsloe were likely already inside. Sam motioned for me to wake up Dean, who was still asleep. I tried to whisper and wake him gradually.

”Dean?”

”Mrmmhmr?”

”We have arrived at our destination.”

”You sound like a GPS.”

”It’s time to go inside.”

”Who died and made you king?”

I gave up momentarily, leaning back in my seat and exhaling loudly for dramatic effect. Dean rolled over, looking up and facing me. His eyelids were heavy, eyes bloodshot from the seawater and exhaustion. Traces of a glow fluttered around him. Inside, Winsloe and Sam were having a heated discussion about going to a local grocery store for bananas, and Bobby turned on the shower.

”Where are you sleeping tonight, Cas?”

I panicked for a moment.

”I’ll be resting on the couch, I have already told you that.”

”You know what?”

My heart danced its way into my throat for a moment, metaphorically speaking.

”Why don’t you just-“

”Okay.”

He instantly raised an eyebrow at me, smirking slightly. Too eager. I had to remind myself to let him finish his sentence the next time.

”Well alright. Hey, battle’s over, no imminent danger. You’ve got plenty of mojo. Poof me inside like one of your French girls.”

”What?”

”It’s cool, it was a dumb movie anyways. Winslet totally could have scooted over and made room for the guy.”

”I’m not sure I understand. What is a Winslet?”

”Take me inside, dumbass.”

I held his bicep, and we were inside. He stumbled for a moment, as he always did. He held onto my shoulder for longer than he necessarily needed to, and the extra time was noticeable, I think for both of us. He turned to me, hair mussed, eyes red, smelling like the ocean and glowing like the sun in a coffee can. It was nearly overwhelming, I found myself trying not to shield my eyes. And he just stared. He looked right into my eyes, not faltering after five seconds, nor after ten. He glanced back on forth between my eyes, studying my face, my hair, taking me in just as much as I was taking him. There was so much that he seemed to be saying without saying anything at all.

”I’m gonna…”

I turned to face him then, and I felt his hand grip my shoulder a little tighter. His hand felt like flames on my skin, amplified by his glow and the thinness of my t-shirt. 

”I just need to.”

He refused to walk away, still.

”Shower.”

”Of course.”

”Like, literally? Like two shakes.”

”Yes.”

”You…you’re gonna just stay right here, and then I’ll be back.”

”Right.”

He quickly removed his hand from me and shook himself, finally breaking his gaze and stepping around me, taking the three steps to the bathroom, and closing the door behind him quite a bit harder then he needed too. A moment later the shower began running, and I turned around to view the room I was in.

It was decorated mostly in dark greens and blues, and was less ornate then the rest of the house. It was streamlined, practical, and simple, which fit Dean perfectly. In the center of the room was a rather large bed. On the far wall, shelving units made from the same dark wood as the floor were filled to the brim with books. I walked over and looked at their titles, realizing that they were categorized by type. One shelf was psychology books, most of which were probably wildly inaccurate. Another was filled with older classic novels. Yet another had spiritual writings, various versions and translations of Qur’an, and so forth. I walked over to the large leather chair in the corner and sat down, gauging its comfort. It was much more comfortable, older and well-made, and I was glad, considering that I would likely be sitting in it for the night. I looked up to see Dean already in the room, drying his hair with a towel. He looked different like that. Undone, in a way. He saw me watching and approached, his bare feet on the wood floor creating the only sound in the room.

”You sleeping in that chair?”

”Yes, I think so.”

He let my response hang in the air for a moment. I could see him working it all out in his head; saying nothing, but saying everything.

”Okay. Well, I’m turning out the lights. Goodnight.”

He turned on his heel, turned off the lamp, and got into bed. I settled back into the cushions, trying to get comfortable again. Perhaps I would get a psychology book later and read it in the kitchen, I thought to myself. I thought about this for a moment, until I noticed Dean turning, trying to get comfortable. He would be still for a minute, then flip over and fluff his pillow, throwing his head into it as an act of defiance. Finally, after many tries, he found a position that was seemingly suitable, and was still.

For a moment.

”Cas?”

He was whispering, but I didn’t know why. Nonetheless, I whispered back.

”Yes.”

”So you’re staying there?”

”I thought we had already established that.”

”Right, yeah. Sorry, goodnight.”

This lasted exactly 17 seconds.

”Oh my god, would you-“

I couldn’t see him, but I could see the bed sheets being tossed around in anger, and various frustrated grunts. I tried not to laugh at him. He finally appeared, planting his feet firmly on the ground, one hand rubbing the bridge of his nose, one hand gesturing to the other side of his bed.

”Get in.”

My stomach fluttered, and a spike of lust stung my spine. It only lasted a moment before I was able to get it under control and speak.

”What?”

”You don’t catch on all that quick, so let me spell in out for you. I want you, Cas, to get into the other side of the bed. Mostly because when I sleep next to you, I just feel good in the morning. And that’s freaking stupid, what kind of line is that, but really, I mean that it a very, very literal sense. Like I physically feel good, and I’m happy, and it’s only when I sleep next to you, okay? And I talked to Win about it, it happens with her too. And, I mean. On top of all that, like dude, we are in this nice house, you aren’t sleeping in a chair. I want you to…just get in the bed.”

I wordlessly stood and did as I was told. I was worried for a moment about the awkwardness, or if this put us in a different place with each other, or what to even do. My feet were being driven to the bed by a force unknown to me. As I crawled under the covers next to him, I was unafraid. He faced me, a comfortable distance away, and waited for me to say something, but I never did. I let this, whatever this was, simply happen. I was in this shared space with him, a setting so personal, I knew he trusted me. He had invited me to sleep in his bed with him, and that alone was outstanding. He never said a single thing, just stared, eyelashes blinking together more and more frequently, slower, lazier, until he was gone. Snores grew gradually louder and louder until they reached their normal volume. I could smell him from there. I could just barely feel his breath dance against me. When I was sure he was asleep, I rested my palm against his cheek, erasing the surface of his discomfort, but not out of necessity, or responsibility.

Out of love.


	31. Away We Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I would dream of sunrises."

I was interrupted from my book at 4:57 AM on a Thursday to Dean Winchester, sleepy eyed and smiling, walking into the kitchen to fix himself a glass of water. When he spoke, his voice was rough and low.

”Where did you go?”

”Um…here.”

He scratched his side with one hand, the soft grey material moving upwards slightly with each upwards motion, and filled his glass from the tap with the other.

”Did you get bored listening to me snore?”

His back was turned, but there was a smile in his voice.

”Your sleeping does not fascinate me as it once did, I’m afraid.”

He turned to me then, quirking his eyebrows up as he took a big gulp from a blue plastic cup.

”Tragic.”

I looked back down to my book and sighed, flipping a page. It was difficult to not break character.

”I’m afraid so.”

”I just bore you huh?”

He was now leaning forward on the counter, elbows against the granite. His shirt hung forward slightly from his body, and I could see his collarbones, as much as I tried not to look.

”Boring indeed.”

”So just leave then, Cas.”

My breath caught in my chest, and I felt sick. The same sickness I felt when he brought that rat home. The same sickness I felt every time he pulled away from me, jaw clenched, exhaling loudly in exasperation. Those simple words made me shake inside myself. Not with rage or jealousy, but with pure disappointment.

”Dude?”

I looked up at him slowly, and his sudden concern made me worry about how I looked in his eyes.

”I’m…joking. You know that right?”

I took a moment to mentally align myself, and chuckled.

”Of course.”

The sickness began to subside slowly. He still looked concerned.

”How could you ever want me gone, Dean. I’m pretty kick-ass, as you would say.”

He choked slightly on his water, but immediately got it under control.

”Yeah, I guess you are. Anyways, you know I was thinking. What it must be like to never sleep.”

”I never tire, if that is what you are wondering. I could sleep, I suppose, if I tried hard enough. Balthazar slept frequently, after going and consuming large amounts of alcohol with his human friends. But no, I’ve never slept. I’ve never needed to.”

”Have you ever wanted to?”

”What do you mean?”

”Like if you could, would you? Just, that feeling of, I don’t know, of letting it all go at the end of the day. Shutting off for a few hours. It’s actually pretty nice.”

”I’ve never thought of it that way.”

”Yeah.”

”I have, however, wanted to dream.”

”Oh, right, yeah.”

”I’ve tried, with no success.”

”Hm. So what do you think you would dream about, if you could?”

”I hope I would dream of the things I like. I might dream of being in a forest with animals. I might dream of snow or rain. I might dream of…well of this. I might dream of a house, here in this beautiful place, with all of you. Safe, and happy. I think that would be nice.”

He looked at me then in a way I had never seen before. A reflection. That wonder and mystery that I felt with him, it was there. It was on his face, and I was sure of it this time. I read it in the crinkles beside his eyes, the subtle turn of his lips. There was a brightness about him, separate from the glow he was giving off. I had never seen it before, but it excited and confused me. I felt myself staring, and tried to get back on track.

”I would probably dream of the smell of a bakery. I would dream of pressing my hand on a freshly painted wall, even though you aren’t supposed to. I would dream of sunrises.”

He broke from a sort of trance then.

”Sunrises?”

”What?”

”You like sunrises?”

”Very much.”

He reached across the counter to his car keys, setting his cup down.

”Then let’s go.”

He nodded at something behind me, and I turned. Through the wall of windows on the far side of the living area, I saw that the sky had begun to lighten, but the sun was not yet up. We were in an area that surrounded a marina, so theoretically we could watch the sun rise from the coast on the far end. I understood immediately what Dean was suggesting, and turned back to see him putting on his jacket from the coat rack. I walked over to him quickly.

”Are you ready, Dean?”

”Yeah, let’s go.”

I took the keys from his hand and set them back on the counter. I set my arm on his shoulder.

”This is faster.”

He nodded in agreement, and in an instant we were on the beach. He stumbled forward and fell into the sand face first. I reached down to make sure he was okay, and helped him up.

”Every time, man. Hey, look.”

I looked to where he was pointing, and saw it immediately. A tiny sliver of the sun was appearing above the horizon, yellowish orange against the pale blue. I was awestruck, as I always was. I stood completely still and watched as it rose, inch by inch, into the sky. It was gradual, but I watched it rise. Soon, a quarter of the sun was exposed over the ocean, and I looked to Dean.

I expected him to be watching with me, seeing all that I was seeing, but he wasn’t. He was watching me. That same look of wonder as this morning. The same thing I saw when Sam watched Winsloe lazily braid and unbraid a tassel on the corner of a blanket, humming some unknown tune to herself. The same thing I saw when I looked through the magazines Winsloe threw at me, husbands holding the hands of their new wives. The same thing I saw on black and white movies, as the music reached a crescendo and the man reached up and pulled his hat from his head to cover his heart, a soft spoken ‘wow, miss.’ barely audible from his lips. I saw it, and I finally understood. 

I wondered if Dean could hear my heart thumping faster than it ever had before in my vessel’s chest. I looked down to my bare toes moving the sand around them, and then back to Dean. He took a step towards me, and chuckled softly. 

”Damn it, Cas.”

In a single fluid motion, his arm was around my waist, his other woven in the hair on the back of my head. I could feel his chest rise and fall in jagged motions against me know, could sense the steady thud of his pulse. Hypersensitive, hyper aware of everything. The sights, the sounds, and the smells of Dean so clean and close and clear and beautiful. He breathed against me, eyes slammed shut. When he spoke again, his voice was barely there at all.

”Damn it, Cas.”

And his lips slammed against mine, and it was surreal. And I took off.

He pulled me toward him, and we were in Mumbai. We were in Tokyo, life buzzing on around us, people paying no mind to a barefoot man in a trench coat and another man in a leather jacket engaged in such a tight embrace; they simply continued to chatter on their cell phones. We were in rural Scotland, and somewhere behind me, a goat was bleating happily. I felt the grass in my toes, focused on the way Dean’s lips tasted, perfect and wonderful and so many, many other words I could not think of at the time, so much better than I had ever come close to imagining. We were in Moscow, a sudden rush of cold hitting me as I clenched my hands into his jacket, locking our bodies together. We were in London, rain pouring around us and drenching us almost instantly. We were in Oahu when I felt his tongue slip in between my teeth, learning me as much as I was learning him. We were in Chicago, a surprised family gasping to the right of us as we appeared in their living room in the middle of their breakfast. We were in Rio De Janero on a dirt road when I felt him hum against me. We were in Kenya when a woman screamed and dropped the sheet she was hanging on the line, ran away as fast as her feet could carry her. I reached up to hold his neck, pull him closer to me, and we were in Las Vegas, appearing on stage during a Cirque de Soliel performance, no one noticing us at all. We were in Melbourne in the corner of a dark bar, knocking over an ATM as we arrived, gasping into each other’s lips. We were in Verona, and Lisbon, and Montreal. We were in Miami, and Sao Paulo, and Port Elizabeth. We were in Kabul, and Tempe, and Tijuana We were everywhere, but I was only there with him.

And then we were back in Malibu, our feet coming to that same stretch of beach, hovering for a moment before they rested in the sand. He gradually pulled his mouth from me, coming back again for small pecks. I opened my eyes and looked at him staring back at me. We still clung to each other like scared children, like long-lost friends, like lovers. We stood on that beach with the still-rising sun as our backdrop, and we were the only beings who existed. He took a deep breath, letting out slowly through his nose.

”Say something.”

I clung to him on that beach, toes in the sand, and rested my head against his chest.

”It’s about time, Dean Winchester.


	32. Organized Chaos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I stared at him for a minute, his back thankfully facing me, and tried to piece it together. His clothes were the same, his face was the same…and the realization ached.

”You suck, Cas.”

I nuzzled my face further into his chest and exhaled, still riding the high of what I had just experienced. Without hesitation, he rested his head next to mine, sighing as well. I inhaled him again, trying to get used to being this close to him. I was interrupted by a faint buzzing noise in his pocket. He pulled back and looked at me, raising his eyebrows.

”I gotta get that.”

I quickly retreated and took two large steps backwards, giving him the space he needed. He gave me a look, and answered his cell phone.

”Hello? Hey. Dude, slow down, I’m fine. The beach. A while, I don’t know, what are you my mother? I’m fine, god. I’m not gonna leave a note, are you serious. Yeah, I know Cas is missing. Yeah, cuz he’s standing right in front of me you spaz. We’ll be back in, I don’t know a while. Okay. Yeah. Okay. Yes. Yeah. Right. Bye, Sam. Oh, wait, I forgot something. If you need a Midol, I’m sure Win has some, check her bag, she’s probably got enough to…Sam? Alright then.”

”Is everything okay?”

”Yeah, just freaking out about nothing, thought we got kidnapped or something.”

”Oh. We didn’t.”

”Really? I had no idea.”

We stood there for a moment, still standing two steps apart. He stared at me, obviously trying to think of what to say next.

”Sam and Win want to go to the shops today, I think I’m probably gonna hang back, but uh, we should probably go.”

”Okay.”

He rocked back on his heels slightly, eyeing me, and started walking back to the car. I followed a couple of feet behind him, and was suddenly hyper-aware of the distance problem he seemed to be having. After such an intimate, and admittedly wonderful, moment he just…separated. I suppose it was just as difficult, if not more difficult, to come to terms with whatever this was. His hands were shoved in his pockets, shoulders hunched forward, and I knew I had done something wrong. Everything suddenly felt very cold, and I felt uncomfortable. I suppose he was even more uncomfortable than me. My feet sunk with each step, the sand holding me back more than it was propelling me forward. I kept the space constant, always making sure I was a few paces behind him. The wind started to pick up slightly, and he zipped his jacket up. We finally reached the parking lot and he glanced around, eventually turning back to me, squinting against the wind.

”We didn’t…we didn’t drive.”

”No, we didn’t.”

A noticeable beat of silence.

”Can you zap us back?”

”Of course.”

I tried to propel my feet toward him so I could transport us home, but it was difficult. I had subconsciously gotten used to trying to keep my distance. I eventually made my way towards him, and his demeanor did not change. Placing my hand on his shoulder, we were off.

We landed with a thud in the kitchen, Dean stumbling only slightly less than before. A voice echoed through the house, immediately identifiable as Sam. He eventually clunked down the stairs, sunglasses on and keys in hand.

”You guys coming?”

Dean glanced for just a second at me and started to speak, but I cut him off.

”No, I think we would both rather just stay here today.”

”Are you sure? We’re going to-“

”We’re sure.”

Both brothers looked at me incredulously.

”Thank you for the offer, Sam. We’ll be here when you get back.”

”O…kay. Bobby’s coming too. We’ll probably be out all day. You two have fun.”

With that, he left, leaving Dean and I alone. He left my side and went to sit down on the couch, turning on the television on his way over. I watched him go, still completely lost. What had happened that morning was unreal. It was everything I could have ever hoped for, and my lips were still buzzing faintly. And then it ended. I watched him turn on his video game controller and settle into the couch, and something was off. I stared at him for a minute, his back thankfully facing me, and tried to piece it together. His clothes were the same, his face was the same…and the realization ached. 

He wasn’t glowing.

Not even a dull haze, that quiet buzz he had on days he was separated from me, or when he was angry at something. His smile was gone, his warmth and closeness and everything that I had grown accustomed to. I had become too comfortable with the way things were, allowed myself to expect them, and now that they were gone, I felt empty. I found myself backing away from the area and wandering aimlessly throughout the house. I opened and closed the refrigerator door a few times, not really looking for anything, just filling time. I walked into the bathroom and flushed the toilet, watched the water swirl around the bowl and disappear to be replaced with new water. I ran sinks and opened cabinets, trying to find something to occupy myself with. I ended up wandering to the opposite side of the bottom floor, remembering that I had wanted to visit it before. On the right side of the hallway, there was a completely empty room with one large window facing the front of the house. I noticed that each wall had a light blue smear of paint on it, all the same shade, and decided what I wanted to do. I walked out into the garage, finding a few cans of paint I had noticed before off to the side. I picked them up, as well as a few other supplies, and went back into the empty room. I went about laying down the plastic tarp and was just finishing putting the painter’s tape on the proper places when Dean came up to the room and leaned against the wall on the other side of the hallway.

”Whatcha doing?”

”I am going to paint this room.”

He stared at me for a moment, nodded, and left. I continued putting up the tape and readying the supplies when he returned in an old, messy shirt and paint-speckled jeans.

”Need some help?”

”Not particularly.”

He leaned back into the wall again, eyeing me.

”I don’t need help, but if you would like to, I think that I would also like you to. Help me. To help me paint this room.”

He picked up a paint roller, dipped it in the paint tray, and began on the wall opposite to me. I copied his motions, and did the same. I began painting, and found it soothing, almost therapeutic. Knowing that his body was in the room with me, even though we didn’t face each other, was oddly comforting. I still didn’t know where we stood, but it seemed like a good place to start. We worked silently for about an hour, him only pausing to go outside for another ladder. We finished each of our walls at about the same time, glancing at each other for a moment. He kept his eyes locked on me as he moved his ladder to the opposite wall with the window. Since the fourth wall of the room was actually a set of double doors, I moved my ladder to the other side of the wall and began in the top right corner. Again, there was silence between us again. I glanced at him whenever I could, see if he was watching me, but he wasn’t. We finally finished the room, getting very close to each other towards the end. I set down my paint roller back into the tray, turning to face him.

”We can do the second coat tomorrow, Dean.”

I didn’t wait for a response, simply left, cleaning my clothes as I went. I walked further down the hall to see what else was on that floor of the house. There was yet another bathroom, decorated in an eerie combination of white and gold. I continued to the end of the hall that had two large wood doors. I opened them, and I was led into a large library.

Books of ever sort filled shelves lined against the walls, sat in organized spiraling piles in the corners, rested in stacks in chairs and on tables. Every possible surface had a foot-high stack of books on it. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that each pile had a different topic. One pile was taxidermy, the next Native American history, the next French dessert recipes. I had a sudden urge to meet the owners of this house, and to speak with the man or woman who had created this space. It had such an air of organized chaos, of calm disaster that it intrigued me. I found myself going from table to table, finding stack after stack of books. When I looked to the shelves, I noticed that they were also organized not by author and genre, but by topic. I found a tall, thin book about South American insects and plucked it from the shelf, looking around to find a place to sit. That was when I noticed Dean, standing in the doorway, staring at me.

”Am I allowed to be here?”

”Yeah, I’m pretty sure you are. As long as you put back what you take, I assume.”

”Of course.”

I shifted my weight to my left side, staring just as intensely back at Dean, book held to my chest.

”I’m sorry.”

”You don’t…you don’t have to be.”

”Cas.”

”I understand if you want me to leave. I know that you probably…if you ask me to leave, I’ll go. Back to Bobby’s house. Or even away. A permanent departure, if that’s what you want.”

”Do you want to leave?”

”No.”

He began crossing the room to me then, stopping when he was only inches away.

”So don’t.”

I watched as the smile inched across his face, his glow coming back and buzzing on the surface of his skin.”

”Okay.”

”Cas, I’m trying to figure out how to put this. It’s kinda tough for me, you know? Getting used to this. Again, whatever this is. It was going great, and then this morning. I think I shocked myself there, honestly. It was strange, but it was also really, really awesome. It’s tough to find a balance, you know? It’s all scrambled up in my head, but…”

”But you’re trying.”

He took my book out of my hands and set it on the table beside us.

”Exactly. I’m trying my best. And it’s freaking chaos, but you know what? I think that’s okay.”

I stared at him for a moment, still unsure of what to do.

”I think I’d like for you to kiss me again, Dean.”

He leaned in, wrapping an around me, smiling and finally glowing again. We both smelled like paint, but I didn’t mind. He ruffled my hair with his other hand and connected, laughing into my lips, and I realized that this kind of chaos was okay.


	33. Senseless Worry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I stuttered something about leaving, and he asked if I really wanted to leave. Of course, it was best. I could leave then, and his life would go on just fine. Sam would take good care of him, probably better than I could. He could find some semblance of happiness then, or at lease neutrality. But that isn’t what came out.

Dean is truly a strange man. Not in a negative way, but simply…unorthodox. For Dean, an opinion he had one month ago is no reflection on how he feels about the topic now. I found out that his opinions on things can change in a day, in an hour, in a minute, in a single second. An hour before, I was standing with my back to him, thinking of all of the bad things I had done to make him hate me. I may have been too forward with him; I may have been too close too soon. I may have said the wrong things at the wrong time. And there was always the possibility that it was him, and not me, but that never crossed my mind. I never once, in that room, thought that I was anything less than a nuisance. My mind was playing an endless reel of every mistake I had ever made, and even though they didn’t seem problematic at first, they added up. Every time I had ever made him angry, the times I had frustrated him with my lack of understanding, the times I had made him uncomfortable, they all added up to the idea that I simply was not worth his time. All of it, all at once, filling up my lungs and suffocating me. It almost felt as though I was collapsing on myself, the infrastructure crumbling and turning to dust. Shame and embarrassment were the only things I could focus on, as much as I tried to distract myself. It was drumming in each step I took, deafeningly loud. But of course, showing how I felt, as I learned from the best, was not an option. I had stood in that room with a blank face, fighting the internal storm that only someone as sick and beautiful as Dean Winchester could cause.

It hung with me with every step into the library, draped around my neck as I searched the stacks of books. I thought of how I would do it. Maybe tell Sam, let him tell everyone else when I was gone. Maybe tell Winsloe instead. Maybe not tell anyone. Maybe just leave and let that bond stretch and tear and wear down until he hardly remembered my name anymore. If I could, perhaps, find a way to erase every trace of me from their memories that would be best. Make it seem as though the idiot angel who fell in love with a Winchester never even existed. I had stirred up enough trouble, and was likely causing so much discomfort for Dean. Every time he tore away from me, every muffled apology followed by silent flight, that was all painful for him. And now that he had kissed me, that bond had strengthened, made it even harder to rip apart when it was time. I wasn’t thinking, grabbed a book on insects from the shelves, clutched it to myself, and turned to see him, calm and composed like I wasn’t internally tearing myself to pieces right in front of him.

I stuttered something about leaving, and he asked if I really wanted to leave. Of course, it was best. I could leave then, and his life would go on just fine. Sam would take good care of him, probably better than I could. He could find some semblance of happiness then, or at lease neutrality. But that isn’t what came out.

”No.”.

I choked on the word like a scared child, watching as he approached, suddenly there, suddenly smiling. 

”So don’t.”

But it would be better, and when you’re faced with decisions like these, you have to put emotions aside and do the right thing, you taught me that.

”Okay.”

He mumbles something about figuring it out, something about how tough it was, something about strange and also awesome, something about finding balance.

”But you’re trying.”

Something about chaos. I’m sure what he said was important, but all I felt was the million pounds of worry and self doubt hit the floor with a clunk, and watching his lips move, and how they felt that morning. 

”I think I’d like for you to kiss me again, Dean.”

And he did, and he laughed into my lips, and I laughed back, and he held me and I held him, and I couldn’t believe I was afraid in the first place.

~~~

”What was that book you had, Cas?”

We had somehow made our way to the floor, sitting side by side and staring up at the wooden rafters overhead. I quickly stood and retrieved it from the table where he had set it.

”It’s called ‘Insects of South America: A Thriving Community’.”

”That is the most inspirational book title I’ve ever heard.”

I smiled down at him, and he smiled back.

”Here, help me up.”

I did as he said, and he stumbled into me with a chuckle, regaining that closeness that we had had before all of that happened.

”I’m hungry, it’s like two and I haven’t eaten, which is a serious problem. So, let’s find a cookbook or something, there has to be some in here. I’m tired of the same old stuff.”

We wandered the library side by side, searching shelves and getting very distracted along the way. I picked up a book that was a catalogue of different types of cigarette ash, and it occupied our attention for a while. We moved on to another aisle, and Dean found a large, very old book in a foreign language. I tried not to laugh as he picked it up and tried to read the cover. I couldn’t contain my laughter when he reacted upon opening it, and was faced with images of common boils and lesions that people suffered from in ancient times. We continued on like that for a while, just moving along, until we found a stack of cookbooks worth looking at. Dean began flipping through various Italian food recipes, settling on a single page, eyes becoming wide. 

”Chicken parm. Only ever had it in restaurants. Freaking awesome."

”Is that what you wish to make?”

”Yes, it’s what I ‘wish to make’, Cas, let’s do it.”

He tucked the book under one arm and placed his other hand on the small of my back, propelling me forward and out of the labyrinth of bookshelves. He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to the back of my neck, and I stopped dead. Dean saw this, and turned back to laugh at me, pulling me forward towards the kitchen again. When we got there, he set the cookbook on the counter and leaned over it, scanning the page.

”There is a problem, Cas.”

”What?”

”We don’t have any of this crap.”

I walked around the counter to look at the book, and he moved over to make room for me.

”Give me a moment.”

I picked up the book and went to the nearest market, startling a small child when I landed. His mother gave me an odd look, and pushed the stroller away from me. I looked at the book, and quickly picked up the items needed, when I realized I had forgotten money to purchase them with. I mentally apologized to whoever was listening out there, ducked into an empty aisle, and appeared back in the kitchen, where Dean was getting various pots and pans ready on the large stove. When he looked at me, he smiled.

”Never gonna get tired of that. Hey, how did you pay for that stuff…Cas.”

”I’m sorry.”

”Eh, it’s okay, I kill people for a living, who am I to judge. Bring it here.”

I set the supplies on the counter, and Dean started cracking eggs into a bowl. I checked the book, and placed a pot of water on the stove to boil. After that, I moved on to making the sauce, emptying cans of pureed tomatoes and various spices to another pot.

”You know I don’t hate you, right?”

I turned to Dean, who was then creating the breading mixture for the chicken. He looked up at me, eyebrows furrowed, and turned back to what he was doing.

”You gotta know I don’t hate you. I don’t think I could hate you if I tried.

I remained silent, and he kept talking.

”Like I said, it’s just tough. And I know I’ve said it a million times, but I’m sorry. For being cold, and harsh, and just an ass, okay? I don’t mean to be, it’s just kind of second nature.”

He finally looked up to me to see my reaction.

”You mean a lot to me, Cas. That’s all there is to it. You, and your dumb trench coat, and your messy hair, and your squinty eyes, all of it. And I don’t want you to leave. Like ever. Like, thirty five years from now, when I’m complaining about my backaches and yelling at kids on my lawn, and I’ve basically turned into Bobby, I want you to be there. I want you to be right there with me, so if you don’t want to leave, and I don’t want you to leave, then just don’t ever leave, okay? It’s pretty damn simple if you ask me.”

”Okay.”

”Does that sound like a plan? You just kinda hang out until I get tired of you, which I won’t?”

Something in my chest did a stage dive when I realized essentially what he was saying.

”That sounds like a plan Dean.”

”Good.”

He let go of the wad of flour and breadcrumbs in his hands and turned, leaning backwards against the counter.

”And you know what else, Cas? I’m gonna kiss you again because I can.”

He took a step forward and plunged at me, taking a sharp breath through his nose as our mouths collided. I felt him grab the sides of my face as he kissed me harder, flour probably smearing onto my face. After a moment, he disconnected and smiled, wiping the flour off my face with a rag and throwing it in the sink. I instantly felt naïve for ever worrying in the first place. He went back to what he was doing, turning back and pointing as a form of a final statement.

”Don’t you burn my sauce, Cas, I’ll kill you.”


	34. The Art Of Embracing It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whenever Dean was close to me as he was then, he did his best to keep it hidden. It never bothered me, although I had wondered why. When I figured it out, I understood, and left it at that.

Bobby, Winsloe, and Sam didn’t get back from their shopping trip until almost midnight, so Dean and I spent the entire day together. We finished making the chicken parmesan, which was very delicious, but made a large mess in the process. I was unaware that it was customary to put a lid on sauce as it cooks, so it bubbled and sprayed tiny specks of red onto the stovetop while I wasn’t looking. Dean also had a problem with the breadcrumbs, and they ended up all over the counter and floor. I helped him clean up the mess, and he told me a story about the time he dared Sam to stick his tongue to a frozen pole in winter, and it had stuck. Sam was very unhappy about the entire ordeal, and their father had been cross with them, but Dean had no regrets. He told me about a stray cat he had taken in when he was young, and after the first night, it had urinated in various places in the motel room, and had to be given away. He told me stories of all sorts; funny, suspenseful, and the like. Throughout, I listened, laughed at the right places, and carried on rinsing dishes and cleaning counters. Dean was less helpful, but I didn’t mind. Mostly, he leaned over the granite bar, animatedly acting out the stories he was telling, pausing at all the right times. He was happy, and glowing, and that was enough for me.

The rest of the day was much of the same, wandering around and finding things to occupy ourselves with. He tried to play a cooperative video game with me, but ended up throwing the controller in frustration when I forgot to “guard his flank”. After that debacle, I went back to the library to find another book to read. I expected him to stay in the living area, but he followed me in. We spent the rest of the afternoon and into the evening reading, him finally settling on more Orwell. He read aloud to me, even using different voices for the farm animals, and it was nice. I eventually found myself laying down next him, staring up at his him and the rafters above. He sat cross-legged to my right. I could hear him speaking, but was lost in a sort of stupor. I felt distanced from my body, mind somewhere else. My vision focused on the underside of Dean’s jaw, and realized that he had stopped speaking. Instinctually, I sat up and looked at him. He noticed my movement and stared unblinkingly back.

”You stopped.”

”I lost my place.”

”Oh.”

”Sorry Cas.”

I watched his mouth form every word, watched as it came closer as I leaned in and met mine.

It was a different experience entirely, kissing Dean Winchester. That stone cold surprise that melted back much faster than I had. It was odd to feel like I had that kind of control over him in that sense. My hands found their way to his shirt, and amazingly grabbed onto it rather than ripping it clean off. I imagined the sound of the buttons popping off and bouncing across the wooden floor, and grabbed another fistful of fabric. Dean was humming into my mouth, taking sharp breaths through his nose that was pressed only slightly awkwardly against mine. I found myself, regrettably and not regrettably, unbuttoning the shirt anyways, despite the sliver of subconscious that told me not to. I waited to be met with opposition, but instead was being grabbed around the waist and hoisted into Dean’s lap. I adjusted accordingly, deciding to uncross my legs and place them on either side of him. My focus went back to my hands, now somehow pushing the plaid button-up shirt off of Dean’s right shoulder. His tongue slipped freely into my mouth, and was somehow not the first thing on my mind. As I pushed the other side of the shirt off, Dean did something that stopped me in my tracks. At some point, my shirt had come untucked, and two hands met in the center of my lower back, moving outwards, and finally resting on my hips. This simple motion, and I was rendered useless. 

My mind fled like a jackrabbit back to that day on Bobby’s back porch, staring at Dean and that spike of lust that racked through my body. My mind fled back to that night where I imagined Dean taking me in the hallway, dropping to his knees in front of me, then awaking to crackling lightning under my skin, pleasure unlike anything I had ever experienced. My mind fled back to every time Dean had leaned over something and shown a tiny strip of skin beneath his shirt, and every time he had come inside sweaty and dirty after working on his car, and every suppressed groan and every hot breath against me and all of it was magnified. My mind fled, and the deprivation combined and hit me square in the chest.

A muffled ‘hey, Cas?’ came from somewhere, but I couldn’t pin it down. My ears were ringing, my hands trembling, and Dean’s pulse was thundering just inches from me. I wondered, not for the first time what he would look like nude, on his knees, mouth swallowing around my cock, coming up gasping for air.

He shook me then, and my vision came back in focus. His eyes darted back and forth between mine; looking me over to make sure I was okay. I, of course, was still frozen.

”Cas, dude, are you okay?”

I managed to nod slightly, and he sighed a breath of relief.

”It’s all good. Maybe we should just…”

He blew a exhale out of his nose, smirking slightly.

”Let’s just slow down a bit, okay?”

I managed to find the right words to say, and I cleared my throat, which had become dry at some point.

”Are you mad at me?”

He squeezed my arms reassuringly and just smiled. I got my wits about me, and leaned back towards his mouth, halting about an inch above him. He nodded slightly, and I connected with him, slower this time. I felt a rumble deep in his chest, and had to choke down the urge to act as I had before.

This kiss was similar to the first one he had given me, slow and deep and blinding, and I found myself getting slightly lightheaded. He started to hold the back of my head, but lightened his grip, likely mentally reminding himself to be gentle, which made my heart flutter a little. He was so warm and soft and inviting, and I was lost. My legs crossed lightly behind his back, hands holding his jaw, I felt like I was floating. He still tasted a bit like the beer he had drank earlier, and I should have been put off, but I wasn’t. Quite the opposite, really. It was faint, but it was sharp, and I found myself drawn to it. The taste was so unlike anything I had ever experienced before, and it was intriguing. The kiss didn’t feel like it had just before, rushed and jagged and hungry. I suppose it was hungry, in a sense, but more out of love than lust. Every time that I had looked at Dean and imagined kissing him, this is what I imagined. Slow, and deep, and comfortable. I was growing accustomed to how he moved, where he liked to me held. I picked up every ounce of data I could from him, and planned on putting it to good use.

There was a distant sound of a door opening and closing, and Dean pulled from me slowly.

”Perfect timing, as always.”

He gently picked me up from his lap, and set me back down where I started. Leaning back in for one last quick peck, he lingered, backing away as slowly as possible. When I glanced up at him, his smile was devilish, and it gave me chills.

”We’re not done here.”

He helped me to my feet, and we found our way out side by side. Sam greeted us at the library door, large shopping bags in each hand.

”Hey, you guys have fun today?”

He smiled at me and winked at Dean. I looked to him, waiting for the glare, but it wasn’t there. Instead, Dean was beaming up to Sam, wrapping his hand around my waist, and pulling me to him.

”Yeah, it was pretty calm. Read and stuff.”

”And stuff?” Sam remarked, and you could hear the smirk in his voice.

”Yeah, Sammy. Stuff. Lots of stuff. Fun stuff.” He leaned over and pressed a light kiss to my neck, and I felt naked. I felt exposed and itchy and strange, seeing such a display from Dean in front of someone else, especially Sam. Whenever Dean was close to me as he was then, he did his best to keep it hidden. It never bothered me, although I had wondered why. When I figured it out, I understood, and left it at that. But right there, in front of Sam…

”That’s…great? That’s really great, hey, can you help us with bags? Win went insane.”

”I warned you, man. She was born insane.” He directed his attention to me, body still turned toward Sam.

”Hey, why don’t you head out, Sam and I will be there in a sec to help, okay?”

I nodded and left, briefly noticing the strange looks that the brothers were giving each other. I went to the garage, and as Sam had said, Winsloe had gone insane. The trunk of Bobby’s car was overflowing with bags from at least 50 different stores. Winsloe thanked me with her hands full of bags, kissing me briefly on the cheek and going inside. Bobby rolled his eyes jokingly, and I laughed with him, starting in on the mountain of bags threatening to fall out.

~~~

”Are we doing this again, Cas?”

Dean sat perched on the side of his bed, hands crossed in front of him. I was sitting in the chair in the corner of the room, fiddling with a piece of lint.

”What?”

”Get in the bed, Cas.”

My mind wanted to run over and jump in, but I wouldn’t move. Dean went around to his usual side of the bed and put his hands on his hips comically.

”Get in the bed.”

”Thank you, but-“

”No.”

He shifted his weight to the other leg.

”Let’s sweeten the offer, huh?”

I watched as Dean slowly pulled his shirt up and over his head, exposing his bare torso and anti-possession tattoo. His shirt hit the floor with a faint thump.

”Get in the bed, Cas.”

I gulped, and I’m nearly positive he could hear it. He watched me, never breaking eye contact as his hands moved to the button on his jeans. It came undone, and the semi-familiar sound of a zipper being slowly pulled down was the only noise in the room. He pushed them off of each foot and tossed them over with his shirt. He was now wearing only boxers, dark blue with a faint plaid pattern. I could tell that he was trying not to laugh.

”Get in the bed, Cas.”

”I don’t think-“

He quickly pulled the blankets out of place, crawling in and sinking down into his pillow.

”Get in the bed, Cas. Final offer.”

”Um.”

”Hey, if it helps? I want you to. I want you to come and get into this bed with me. I sleep better when you do, you know that. I’ll let you keep your nine feet of space that you love so much. Just get in the bed. Please.”

Something about the way he asked had my feet kicking the shoes off of each other and shuffling over to the other side of the bed. I crawled in and he smiled, clicking off the lamp. I settled into my spot, fully clothed, hands folded over my stomach. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him turned in my direction.

”Let me ask you, man. What’s to be uncomfortable about? I think we’ve both kind of established something here. Generally speaking, this is how it goes. I lay here, and you come up next to me and fall asleep with my arm around you. But I would be sleeping, not you. Whatever, the idea is the same. You don’t have to be scared.”

”I’m not scared.”

”Good, that’s what I thought. So man up, grow a pair, and come freaking cuddle with me like normal gay couples do, I assume.”

I turned to him, and his hands were stretched out towards me. I could also see his chest shaking slightly with suppressed laughter.

”This isn’t gonna get any less weird, trust me. Embrace it. That’s what I’m doing.”

He didn’t wait for an answer, but instead pulled me to him, situating us so that my head was on his shoulder, and my arm was draped across him.

”That’s it. Embrace the gay, Cas.”

I found myself laughing into his shoulder, and he laughed as well. He placed a kiss on my temple, and settled in, breaths becoming more and more even until he was asleep. I felt his chest rise and fall, could smell and feel the warmth of his skin, and I felt comfortable. I didn’t want to crawl back to the opposite side of the bed as I thought I would.

It’s not what I expected, but it was just as wonderful.


	35. Golden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ”I’m not saying I’m a better cook. I’m saying that if I hadn’t been there, you would’ve been a worse one.”

When Winsloe walked in the next morning to wake us up, she was in a sense of shock.

She tiptoed in at almost noon, barefoot and holding a small gong I had never seen before. The look on her face was completely mischievous, but she didn’t see me despite the light bleeding through the curtains. When she did see me, her reaction reminded me of a cartoon.

She stopped dead in her tracks, eyes widening. She glanced back and forth between me and the sleeping Dean, jaw slowly falling open. She nearly dropped the gong, and it clanked loudly for a moment, until she held it to her chest with both arms to keep it quiet. Dean didn’t stir, and she exhaled dramatically. She continued to glance back and forth between Dean and I, babbling silently about something that I could not understand. When she finally got something audible out, it was small, and very raspy.

”Cas?! Oh my god?”

I didn’t know how to reply, so I just stared. She seemed to be asking me a question without actually asking it.

”Oh my god Cas! You seriously…? I can’t even…did you?”

”Winsloe, I don’t-“

”You did, didn’t you, oh my god! Did you? Or did he? Oh, I really hope it was him.”

”I’m confused.”

She leaned in a bit, and whispered even quieter, which didn’t make sense, since she was essentially getting closer to Dean, not me.

”Was it good? It was probably good, right? How good was it?”

”Winsloe.”

”Yeah? Oh, shit, right. Oh, I’m sorry, I wasn’t even thinking. We’ll talk later? Oh god Cas, I’m so…okay, I’m going, sorry.”

She stuck her tongue out and gave me a thumbs up before tiptoeing out of the room. She turned around and pointed at Dean before she left, and I assumed she wanted me to wake him up. I placed my hand in the center of his chest with the intention of shaking him awake, but I was instantly distracted by a semi-familiar thud in his chest.

It wasn’t the first time I had felt his heartbeat. Many times, actually, I had been able to feel it next to me. Each time was in some frenzy of restrained contact, and I wasn’t focusing on his heart as much. It was always there, but it wasn’t my main focus until then, because that time was different.

The contact was bare.

This was the palm of my hand against his sternum, not a single layer of clothing separating me from him. Maybe it was the hypersensitivity, but it felt louder. I could feel it drum into me, could feel his heart just barely offbeat from mine. It was steady, and it was heavy, and it was slow, and it was hypnotizing. It occurred to me that we had never been that close. There was always some barrier between us, physical or psychological, that blocked us from it. Something had always come between us, something so frustratingly thin and frail, a cotton shirt, an inch and a half of empty space, but not then. I put my hand against his heart and every boundary I had ever encountered with Dean was ripped to shreds right in front of me.

I finally got my wits about me, and shook him awake. He stirred slightly, grumbling something and turning on his side instinctually. I leaned up to his ear, still trying to shake his arm.

”Winsloe wants you to wake up.”

”Winsloe can kiss my damn ass.”

”Are you awake, Dean?”

”No I’m asleep, that’s how I’m talking to you right now.”

”Please.”

”Never.”

”What can I do to make you get out of bed.”

”I can think of a few things.”

”Sure, anything Dean.”

He snorted quietly, and turned over to face me. I was a little startled by suddenly being face to face with him, as close as we were. It was a new sensation for me, and I almost found myself pushing away from him. Squinty eyes and a teasing smirk changed my mind.

”I’m…joking. Am I? Yeah, I’m joking. Not gonna make you do that.”

”Okay?”

”Why does she want me up?”

”I am unsure. She didn’t say.”

”Wait.”

His eyes suddenly went wide, his jaw slacking open in a half-laugh.

”Wait, was she in here, Cas?”

”Yes. A few minutes ago.”

”And she saw you?”

”Yes.”

”And she saw me?”

”Again, yes.”

He broke out into a fit of laughter, covering his face with his hands.

”Ah, shit. She probably thinks…oh boy. Oh that’s great. That’s fucking golden. She assumes. Probably. Oh that is wonderful!”

He abruptly sat up in bed, leaving me laying where I was.

”Is everything okay, Dean?”

”Oh yeah. Everything is golden.”

~~~

”I’ll have the tilapia, please. Um, grilled instead of breaded, and a side salad.”

Our waitress nodded as she wrote down Sam’s order, and I watched as Winsloe shook her head at him, tutting quietly.

”Alright, and what about you, miss?”

”I, unlike my sad excuse for a man here, know how to put away some real food. I’ll have the t-bone, mashed potatoes, rice pilaf, and also, can I get another side order of that shrimp thing?”

”Absolutely. What will you have, sir?”

I looked away from Sam and Winsloe, who seemed to be arguing silently with each other, and up to the waitress. She stood patiently waiting, pen ready at her pad of paper. I looked back down to my open menu, scanning it a final time.

”Chicken parmesan, please.” 

”Sure thing. That’ll be right out.”

As she left, I noticed Dean eyeing me suspiciously from the other side of the curved booth, drumming his fingers against the table.

”Really, Cas?”

”What?”

”Like any chicken parm could even compete with mine.”

I returned the smirk he was giving me, and clasped my hands in front of me.

”Our chicken parm.”

”Huh?”

”My assistance in that meal was a large component in the final product.”

”Oh, okay. No, it was my meal, actually. I let you stir sauce.”

He was trying, unsuccessfully, not to smile, and so was I.

”Half of your meal ended up either on the floor or handed to me in frustration, so I’m sorry, but I have to disagree.”

Bobby cleared his throat next to me and raised his eyebrows at Dean.

”Sensing some tension there, damn.”

”Wouldn’t be the only one.”

Dean held up a finger to silence Bobby and Winsloe, and continued.

”Are you saying you’re a better cook than me, Cas? Not sure that’s a line you wanna cross, dude.”

”I’m not saying I’m a better cook. I’m saying that if I hadn’t been there, you would’ve been a worse one.”

The entire table turned, wide eyed, to me. I smiled smugly back at them. It was silent for a moment, then Winsloe cleared her throat.

”Right, okay, anyways. Plans for today. Day three, guys, do we go back to the beach today? Might as well spend as much time there as we can, right?”

”Sounds good to me, kid. Thought about it a bit, might get back on a board.”

”Are you sure, Bobby?”

”The hell you mean am I sure? You calling me old, Sam.”

”What? I, no, just. You. You were so persistent before about not wanting to, so I assumed-“

”I can surf better than you can with a bad back and a beer gut, son, you remember that.”

”Yes sir.”

Our server arrived with a large tray, and began passing around each of our meals. A steaming bowl of food sat in front of me, and the lack of hunger I had had before disappeared completely. It smelled delicious, so I began. It was not as good as I imagined it, but I saw that Dean was watching expectantly, so I gave him the show he wanted. I chewed slowly, closing my eyes in fake delight, and hummed. When I looked up to him, his hamburger was held an inch from his mouth, and he was staring at me.

”So, Cas, how does it compare? We’re all dying to know.”

I let his question hang in the air, setting down my fork slowly and dramatically.

”I’m not sure how to put it.”

”That’s what I thought, jackass.”

”Without hurting your feelings that is.”

”Huh?”

”Oh, this meal is exponentially better. Yours never stood a chance.”

A muffled ‘oooh burn’ came from somewhere, probably Sam, but I refused to break eye contact with Dean. He kicked me sharply under the table, and I wasn’t expecting it. I jolted, and accidentally knocked my bowl into my lap, spilling its contents all over me. Dean threw his head back in laughter, and the rest of them held laughter in as well. I looked down at the bowl in my lap, unsure of what to do. Dean’s raised eyebrow prompted me to do something, so I picked up the bowl and gingerly placed it right side up on the table. There was still the problem of the mess of pasta, sauce, and chicken that was beginning to soak through my pants and shirt. I shrugged and sighed to myself, grabbing a fistful of it and plopping it back into the bowl. Dean howled again, and Bobby joined him, unable to contain his laughter. I felt the tips of my ears heat, and continued working, grabbing handful after handful of food and smacking it angrily into the bowl.

”You okay there, bud?”

”I think it’s in your best interest to…how would you say it…shut the fuck up, Dean Winchester.”

He choked slightly on the bite of hamburger in his mouth, and I took it as a small victory. I was then faced with the problem of red pasta sauce that covered my hand. I reached over to get a napkin, right as Dean slid them over to himself and proceeded to wipe his hands and face with the entire stack.

”Oooh, yikes. Looks like we’re outta napkins.”

I glared at him with every ounce of false anger I could muster, and he just stared fondly back. I wondered why he wasn’t continuing his charade of acting angry with me as well. I looked to my filthy hand, and began licking it clean.

I stared at him as I sucked the sauce from between my fingers, from the span of my palm, and everywhere else it fell. Dean continued to beam at me, and I was unsure why. I let my thumb come out of my mouth with a pop, and set my hand down on the table.

”Delicious.”

He smiled even wider, shaking his head softly and letting a small exhale escape his chest.

”I love you, Cas.”

What, my brain screamed. My ears felt like they were filling with water. What? I could see out of the corner of my eye that Sam, Winsloe, and Bobby were looking amongst themselves in disbelief. What?

I had imagined it trillions of times. Different settings every time. Whispered in the Impala. Yelled across an empty house. Muttered into my hair as I laid in his bed. Chuckled as we walked out of a movie theater, leaning on each other. In the rain. On the beach.

In front of a minister, hands shaking in mine, black suits perfectly ironed.

But I had never imagined it like that. Sitting in a booth in who knows, who cares where, California. Next to Sam and Winsloe and Bobby. Cheesburger in hand, piece of bacon falling out of the bottom of it. It was nothing like I had imagined, but it was still golden. He still shone like a beacon as I imagined. He still had that smug smile that only Dean could conjure. In a sense, it was so like him. What I should have been expecting. I was unsure of what he was referencing earlier that morning, but he was right. It was golden. It was warm, and smiling, and just the way it needed to be. After a long moment, I was able to put myself together and form a response.

”So you chose to wait to tell me when we are in a boring restaurant and I’ve got pasta sauce in my lap?”

To the side of me, I could just barely see Winsloe subtly placing a five dollar bill into the palm of Sam’s hand as he smirked at her. Dean just chuckled and set his burger down, wiping his hands on his jeans and finishing his bite.

”That is correct. The moment seemed fine to me.”


	36. Attatch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The likelihood of Dean Winchester getting butterflies when he was close to me was at zero, and I didn’t mind. I knew that he was different in that sense. Dean wasn’t sappy.

”You’re gonna get a hell of a sunburn, Cas.”

”I’ll be fine.”

He continued to push the bottle of sunscreen at me, a blue tube with an image of a child on it, bathing suit bottom being pulled by a small dog.

”Just in case?”

”I’m not a child, and I will not be treated as such.”

”Look, I’m putting on some too. And so did Sam and Bobby. But not Winsloe for some reason, she’s a freak of nature, or I don’t know, maybe it’s because she’s from the tropics, she doesn’t burn. Look. Watch.”

He took the bottle from me and squeezed a small amount in his hand, closing the cap and spreading the white cream on his face.

”And yes, I look like an idiot. I can’t deny that if I tried. However, I’m gonna look a lot less idiotic than that guy over there, the lobster. And he’s gonna be pink and burning and itching and peeling for days.”

”I’ve never gotten a burn from the sun before.”

”Yeah, because you usually wear thirty pounds worth of jackets.”

I was suddenly aware again of my almost nudity, and crossed my arms on my chest.

”You’re being a stubborn little ass, and I’m not enjoying it. Hurts my feelings, hurts ‘em real bad.”

He pulled his face into a fake pout, bottom lip quivering as well, and I couldn’t help but smile.

”Why do you care?”

”What is your problem? You know what I like to call this? A non-problem. You know why? Because there is actually no dilemma here, you just gotta-“

He quickly squeezed another large drop into his palm, and slapped it onto my shoulder. As I backed away, he put more in his hand.

”This isn’t a game you want to play, angel.”

”I can outrun you…human.”

He snorted, and took a hesitant step towards me. I stood my ground, and he lunged again, smearing the sunblock against my left cheek. I was laughing then as he stumbled forward to me, kicking up sand around him. We wrestled playfully for a minute, sunscreen ending up over the both of us, until I allowed him to tackle me to the sand. 

He kneeled next to me, rubbing the sunblock on my face, and I didn’t fight him. I looked up at him, and I was reminded of a Disney film called The Little Mermaid. There is a scene where Ariel, the mermaid, first meets Eric, a human. At one point, he looks up at her, enthralled and amazed. The sun shines around her, outlining her frame, and Eric is smitten. I was reminded of this moment as Dean leaned over me, eyebrows knitted together in faux anger/frustration, glowing from a combination of the sunlight behind him and the light inside him. I wanted to tell him about my mental comparison, but I had a feeling he would laugh at me, so I kept in inside.

”See? Not so bad. Smells kinda good actually, I like it. Reminds me of summer whenever I smell it. Reminds me of this one time, one summer, Sam was I think 6, and Bobby took us to the lake, so Sam climbs up in this tree, right-“

He continued to ramble about his childhood memory for a while, animatedly recounting the story as he rubbed yet another layer of sunblock onto me. One of his hands was roughly stroking across my forehead, but the other one was still pressing to my chest. It was lighter than before, since I was no longer struggling to get away. His hand mirrored the way mine had been that morning, resting gently across my heart. I wondered if he felt that same flutter, that same sudden connection that I had felt with him. I mentally laughed at the idea almost immediately. Dean simply wasn’t as sentimental about things as I was. Dean was practical, straightforward, and most importantly, unattached. He couldn’t feel that way towards me, and if he did, he would never tell a soul. He has said that he loved me earlier that day, which I had unsuccessfully tried to push to the back of my mind, because there are many forms of love. There is the family love he feels for Bobby, and especially Sam. There is friendship love that he feels for Winsloe. And maybe he did love me, but I had to have been looking too far into it. The likelihood of Dean Winchester getting butterflies when he was close to me was at zero, and I didn’t mind. I knew that he was different in that sense. Dean wasn’t sappy. 

”-and I kid you not, that raccoon had to have been 100 pounds, easy. And she was mad, shit was she mad, Sammy had one of her babies in a shoebox. He let it go, of course, but we never told Bobby about it, he would have smacked us upside the head in half a second. I just remember that smelled like the strangest mix of the woods, sunblock, and the nastiest raccoon on the face of the earth.”

As soon as the last word was out of his mouth, there was a slow clap coming from behind him. I started to sit up to see who it was, but the realization hit me before I could, and I sunk back down in the sand. Dean turned around to look, his hands finally leaving me, and his head fell back in a groan.

”Wow, Dean-o. That is just the cutest little story I’ve ever heard.”

”Thanks man, I appreciate that. Almost as cute as that dopey haircut.”

”Deep cut, Winchester. Anyways, how have you guys been? Enjoying your vacation? Looks like it to me.”

Dean looked back down to me, and gestured up to the person behind him.

”Will you handle this please, Cas?”

He moved out of the way, and there he stood, towering over me for the first time in our history.

”Hello, Gabriel.”

He had a can of cola in his hand, complete with a red striped straw and small pink decorative umbrella. He was wearing dark sunglasses, and his hair was dripping wet, likely from being in the ocean. He wore a different type of swimsuit from us, bright red and skin tight, covering a lot less skin than normal. In a different setting, I would think they were underwear, inappropriately tight underwear at that. A blue floral towel hung over his shoulder, and he smiled down at me.

”How’s it hanging, brother?”

Dean helped me up and then stepped back, and he stood face to face with me. Well, his face to my chin. I was taller than him again, and order had been restored.

”Why are you here?”

”The mountains and mountains of ladies. Beautiful, curvy, tan ladies. And one dude working the bar at the end of the beach, nice smile, ass that won’t quit. You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you? I gather from your blank expression that you don’t.”

”What do you want?”

”Same thing I always want, jackass. Just checking on you.”

I felt Dean approach my side, but he didn’t touch me.

”He’s just fine, Gabriel. Enjoying a nice day at the beach, god forbid.”

”Right. Hey, where’s the rest of the gang? Old man, Gigantor, and Ball of Sass?

”Surfboard rental.”

”Ooh, fun. Sounds like you guys are having a grand old time. You hungry? There’s this little restaurant, I’ve got friends there, called Barry’s? Ever heard of it. Great service, not too far away, and they have killer…chicken parm.”

I could feel Dean tense up next to me, and I understood why. Gabriel had never really had any sense of privacy, that much was clear.

”Gabriel, may I have a word with you in private?”

His mouth smirked around his straw as he slurped at the last of the contents of the can.

”Sure thing, bro. We’ll be right back, Dean, don’t you worry your pretty little head.”

He walked away toward the other side of the beach and I followed him, speaking only when I was sure Dean was out of earshot.

”You don’t need to follow us around.”

”Who says I’m following you? We’ve just crossed paths a few times is all.”

”Who were you, Gabriel?”

”Huh?”

”In the restaurant, who were you.”

”Little old lady at table nine, if you must know.”

”You heard everything?”

”Affirmative.”

”So why are you here, then. Things are obviously…fine. And you know that.”

”Oh, I know. I just thought it was time to put Dean to the test.”

”What?”

”Sent him a little gift. Brunette, white bikini.”

I was unsure of what he meant for only a split second, and I tried to lunge at him, but he stopped me.

”Hey, hey trust me. Act cool. Stop walking, but act like we’re talking okay. Do not turn around and look.”

”Gabriel, so help me-“

”Shhhhhh…..listen.”

I closed my eyes and focused, tuning in on the sound of Dean’s voice.

_”Nice to meet you, uh, Angie.”_

A high pitched giggle became clear, and my heart sunk. Gabriel hushed me again, and I continued to listen.

_”Um, Dean, was it? That’s a nice name. I was wondering if you could help me. My friend was supposed to pick me up an hour ago, but she didn’t show up…”_

Her voice became low, a whisper, like she was close to him, and my heart sunk further.

_”…could you maybe give me a ride? If you have a car? Maybe we could get to know each other a little better._

I heard him take a deep breath, and almost lost control. It felt just as it had before, with that other rat. It felt like it had when I learned about Thomas, someone who had done terrible things to Dean in the past. Rage was the only thing I could focus on, and I almost turned around and ran back to him, but his voice broke through it.

_”Uh, okay. See, that’s nice and all…and you’re a very pretty girl, but I can’t. I’m sure someone else can give you a ride, or maybe you can get a bus or a taxi or something.”_

_”Why can’t you take me, Dean? You’re just here, all alone. I’m all alone too. Come on, sweetheart.”_

_”I’m actually…there’s someone.”_

_”Who? She doesn’t have to know. It will be like we never even met._

_”It’s my…his name is Cas.”_

_”His? Ugh, seriously?”_

_”Uh, yeah, seriously. And I’m pretty sure he, unlike me, wouldn’t be afraid to put you in your place. It was nice meeting you, but I’m sorry, I can’t help you.”_

_”Pity. You seemed like a good one. Catch you later, Dean.”_

I opened my eyes, and Gabriel was grinning. He put one hand on my shoulder, shaking me slightly.

”You hear that? He passed. With flying colors, I might add. I knew he would.”

”Gabriel.”

”I know. I won’t meddle anymore. I just had to be sure, you know? I’m just looking out.”

”Okay. I guess that’s fine.”

”I’ll be off, then.”

”Goodbye.”

He pulled his bathing suit out of his bottom, and saluted me.

”Gonna go catch up with that bartender. Ass. That. Won’t. Quit.”

I chuckled, and started to walk back to where Dean was.

”Hey Cas?”

”What now?”

”If you’re wondering about what he said back at that restaurant? I can tell he means it.”

”Really?”

”I know about these things. I wish you the best, man. Go be with your muttonhead. Catch you later.”

He disappeared in a flurry of flaps, and I walked back to Dean, who was now sitting in the sand, leaning back on his elbows.

”Hello, Dean.”

He squinted up at me with one eye, and smiled.

”Did you get that cleared up?”

”He won’t be bothering us anymore.”

”Good. Hey…”

I stepped in front of him so I could block out the sun, and his eyes went back to normal, looking up at me.

”You know, it’s like that scene in that one kid’s movie…”

I did my best to hold in the smile of recognition that threatened to spread across my face.

”Nevermind, you probably never saw it. It was dumb anyways.”

He stood up and huddled in close to me, and before I knew it, his hands were locked around my back. I expected him to be smiling, but his face was blank, glancing back and forth from one of my eyes to the other.

”Is everything okay, Dean?”

A smile broke across his lips, and I knew the answer.

”You’re just awesome is all.”

I glanced around me, half expecting someone to be staring at us. I knew it would make Dean uncomfortable, so I almost broke away, but he simply tightened his grip. The gap between us closed, and he kissed me again, hard. He kissed me hungry, and slow, and unafraid. He had attached himself to me, and it was nice. It felt like we had finally reached a balance, as opposed to me fearing that I had become too attached to him.

He pulled from me, and rested his chin on my shoulder. I heard it again, ‘I love you, Cas’, and it was whispered. It was quiet, and it was private. And maybe it was a sappy cliché, but I didn’t mind, because I finally believed it was true.

Dean Winchester was sappy, and I didn’t tease him about it once.


	37. Side Effects

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I looked at him as he gradually started laughing, then at Dean, whose eyes went wide. I didn’t understand who they were talking about, and I tried to shuffle around them, but as soon as I took a step, I knew.

The third day of our vacation went reasonably quickly after Gabriel left. Sam, Bobby, and Winsloe came back shortly after with the surfboards, and Dean was the first one to try. I watched from the shore as he paddled out on the board to wait for a wave. When it came, he turned and pedaled back a bit, trying to stand on the board. The wave overcame him before he could, and he tumbled backwards into the water, much to the amusement of the rest of the group. My immediate reflex was to go into the water after him, and I stepped forward, but Winsloe stopped me.

”Hang on, give him a second.”

I stared at the surface of the water, a feeling of unease settling into my stomach. After a moment, he came up with a gasp and a thumbs up, calling out to us.

”I’m good!”

This same process was repeated with Sam a few times, but he was even worse. Many times, he fell off the board simply paddling out to the wave. He would come up for air, and the wave would crash down on top of him, pulling him down again.

Next was Winsloe, and she only failed once. After that, she managed to ride the wave almost all the way to the shore, and we applauded her as she did. Eventually, she came back and gave Bobby two quick slaps on the stomach.

”You’re up, big man. Let’s see how much of your reputation is just talk.”

Bobby sighed and shoved her shoulder, wading into the ocean. When he began to paddle he, surprisingly, managed to move faster than the rest of us. Sam hung his head in defeat as Bobby turned, mounted his board, and effortlessly rode the wave he had been chasing. He stood on the board without wobbling once, gliding along in such a way that showed practice and experience. He was infinitely better than the rest of us, and when he came back in grinning from ear to ear, we applauded him.

Bobby, Winsloe, and Sam paddled back out, but Dean stayed at the shore with me.

”You gonna go try?”

”No, that’s alright. I think I’ll just stay here.”

He stepped towards me, reaching his hand to me. I took it, and he pulled me over to sit next to him, our feet about an inch in the water.

”Cas, you gotta try this.”

He laid down, settling himself in the sand and looking up expectantly at me.

”Just trust me.”

I did as he did, shoulder to shoulder next to him. I felt my body squelch into the damp sand, and it was a strange sensation, but I grew accustomed to it.

”Why are we doing this, Dean?”

I noticed that the little bit of water that was surrounding us was now being sucked back into the sea.

”Wait for it…”

All at once, the water rushed back up around us, and I turned my head upwards toward the sky in order for my vessel to be able to breathe. The small wave saturated my clothes, ran between, under, and around me. It was odd, but it was wonderful. When the water receded again, I could hear again, and Dean was laughing. A light, tinkling laugh that I had heard so rarely from him. Such a sense of child-like glee filled him, essentially giggling up at the sky. He turned to me, and moved to his side, propping up on his elbow and resting his head in his hand.

”Awesome, right?”

”Odd.”

”Feels weird, right?”

”That too.”

”Huh?”

I’m just not used to seeing you this happy.”

My words struck something in him, and his smile was gone.

”I’m really that big of an ass most of the time, aren’t I.”

”Yes, I suppose you are.”

A visible flash of anger hit him.

”Please let me finish. You are more, I suppose, focused. And that’s a positive thing. You are a very vital part of the group. You help keep a sort of almost perfect balance among us. Bobby is wisdom, Winsloe is humor, Sam is power, and you are logic. It’s very simple. And without you, the dynamic would not work. We very much need you, Dean. When you are working a case, your focus helps hold everything together. I’ve seen it. It’s who you are, and no one wants or expects you to stray from that. Taken out of your usual habitat, you become this version of yourself. Still logical, but relaxed. You’re calm. You’re happy, and I enjoy it. We all do. Realistically, it won’t last. We’ll go back, and the stress of the job will set in, and you will go back to the you that we are used to. It’s unfortunate, but it’s okay. For now, I am soaking in every moment of your happiness that I can.”

He was silent for a moment, watching as the water washed up between us again. The sun was very gradually starting to set, and people were starting to pack up their things and go home on various parts of the beach.

”For the record, Cas? It’s not this vacation that is making me like this. It’s you.”

”I don’t understand.”

”This whole happy thing? What I’m saying is, it’s not going away after the end of this week. I’m taking the happy stuff home with me.”

”Oh.”

I was in a sort of stupor, and I simply stared at him. He laughed, and crawled over to me, laying on top of me. It should have been uncomfortable, but it wasn’t. Our bodies figured out how to fit together, and it was okay.

”You wanna talk changes, you’re the one changing.”

His breath was warm on my neck, and I shivered in spite of it.

”How so?”

”You’re not acting so…angel. You know? Like before, how you had a stick in your ass.”

”Thanks for that, Winchester.”

”See, that’s what I’m talking about! Sarcasm, and slang, and the way you walk and everything. It’s all more normal. I think hanging out with us dumb humans all the time is rubbing off on you, Cas.

”I think it’s a side effect of spending all this time with you.”

He placed a few small kisses on my neck, lingering on the last one and sighing into my skin.

”I think we’re side effects of each other.”

”I suppose we are.”

He kissed my neck again, working his way down to my collarbone, and my heart stopped. He suckled lightly, and I could feel his tongue dance against my skin.

”You aren’t wasting any time.”

”I’ve wasted enough time, Cas. Time is limited. Time is of the essence.”

He moved his mouth across my collarbone, stopping to lick slowly at my Adam’s apple. My breath hitched, and my back arched slightly into him.

”You’re very forward, Dean.”

”Yeah, have you met me?”

Hands ghosted down my bare sides, and stopped at my bathing suit. His mouth came up to mine, and spoke directly into it. His words reverberated against my teeth and vibrated into my bones, shaking me like I had never been shaken before. 

”If we were alone, I’d have you right here, Castiel. Right here in the sand.”

His lips muffled my gasp, and he kissed me with purpose. The hands that rested at my hips dug in to the small amount of flesh available. We got lost in each other, bodies moving slowly against each other. I felt dizzy, unattatched to my body.Needless to say, I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings. We both jumped when a large figure landed next to us in the sand.

”You guys having fun over here?”

Sam’s smile was almost annoyingly wide, every single one of his teeth exposed.

”Way to be a prick, Sam.”

I wiggled my way out from underneath Dean and stood, knees almost giving out.

”Aw come on, don’t be cold-hearted, Dean. Look, Cas even invited his friend.”

I looked at him as he gradually started laughing, then at Dean, whose eyes went wide. I didn’t understand who they were talking about, and I tried to shuffle around them, but as soon as I took a step, I knew. I looked reluctantly at the front of my shorts to see that they were tented up in the middle. My eyes met Dean’s for a brief moment, and I hoped that he would look away, but he didn’t. I was frozen like a deer in headlights, and unsure of what to do. Dean stood up and leaned over to kiss me on the cheek, being careful to keep his body from coming close to mine.

”Side effects, right?”


	38. A Brief Glimpse Of What Is Real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was never like that when I played out the scenarios in my head. That was when I realized that this wasn’t a scenario. This wasn’t something I was imagining.

I noticed the change in Dean like night and day. Dean left the bed very early the next morning, whispering a faint ‘kitchen’ into my ear. When he leaned over, he engulfed me. He was so much warmer than usual, and he was very affectionate. Even in the brief moment of contact, he pressed his entire body to me, rolling his hips subtly, but obviously not subtly enough. His arm wrapped around my chest, pulling me to him, and very reluctantly letting go. This simple act filled me with a warmth I was, perhaps too quickly, getting used to. It made me feel valuable, and wanted. I didn’t feel like a nuisance. I felt like Dean woke up happy next to me, and something in me lurched in the best kind of way.

I took a moment to brush my teeth after he left, which I was gradually turning into a habit. I rinsed out my mouth and headed downstairs, fixing my coat as I went. Dean was leaning over the counter eating a bowl of cereal.

”Morning.”

”Are the others awake?”

Dean raised an eyebrow at that, and started pouring milk into a second bowl.

”Why do you ask?”

”I just don’t want to disturb them if they aren’t.”

”Nope, all still asleep. It’s like four in the morning. Cinnamon Toast Crunch.”

”Thank you.”

I accepted the bowl of cereal he slid over to me and began eating. It was only my second bowl of that particular cereal that I could remember, and it was very good. I glanced up momentarily to see that Dean had stopped eating. His spoon hung a few inches from his mouth, milk dripping onto the cabinet. His eyes locked onto mine, and his eyes were dark. I didn’t understand why he wouldn’t look away, so I looked back into my bowl, pushing the cereal around on the surface of the milk between bites. It wasn’t a new feeling to be looked at like that, but I didn’t understand it in that context. He seemed angry, like he was about to attack me, but there was something deeper than that. I decided to let it go, and finished my breakfast. When I looked up, Dean had finished his as well, and was at the sink washing his bowl out. I stood behind him with mine, and washed it once he moved. 

”Why do you wear all that?”

I looked down at the outfit I had grown accustomed to wearing.

”Habit.”

”Take it off.”

”What?”

”The coat and everything. You even…not sleep in it. Come on.”

He reached up and pulled my trench coat off my right shoulder, and I instantly felt lighter. Dean crowded close to me, and the air around us electrified with heat or static or something else.

”There, isn’t that better?”

”I-“

”Hm?”

He was gradually pressing himself closer and closer to me, and my breath caught a tiny bit. Wasting no time, he proceeded to pull off my suit jacket and drop it to the floor with the coat. Next he moved to each of my shirt buttons. I felt completely frozen as I watched him look me up and down, noticing how I was reacting to all of this. He shivered a little bit and let out a half laugh, half exhale. His eyes darted between mine as he undid the last button and slid that layer off as well.

”Th- it’s better.”

”Is it, babe?”

That semi-familiar spark worked its way up my spine, and the hypersensitivity clicked on like a switch. That’s when I noticed he was buzzing just as much as I was. Dean pushed me slowly over to the island behind us, pinning me against it, mouth hovering an inch from me. I nodded quickly, and he nodded back as he kissed me.

Hands were suddenly everywhere all at once. One working its way behind me to my lower back, one clutching relentlessly into the back of my head, tugging at my hair in such a way that I almost bucked. There was a hand working its way slowly up my shirt, and I shivered. My own hands hung numbly at my sides, and Dean noticed, laughing.

”You can touch me too, Cas.”

Those simple words made an unnatural sound escape my chest, and there was a growl back as a response.

”It’s okay…I want you to.”

Our lips met again, and I grabbed his hips, which helped. They were sturdy, and stationary, and they made me feel more secure. I cautiously moved my hands up his sides, fingertips sticking to sweating skin. It wasn’t an action, it was a question, and a breathy ‘yes’ was my answer. I grabbed at his shirt on either side and yanked upwards, stopping as the fabric got caught at his armpits. He detached himself from me for a moment and allowed me to finish yanking his shirt over his head, and once I did, we stood and stared at each other for a moment, his shirt in my hand. 

”There you go, Cas.”

He moved quickly then, grabbing me around the hips and lifting me. My legs wrapped instinctively around him, and he started carrying me out of the kitchen and down the hallway. I thought briefly of how quickly this was happening, and that maybe I should stop. I thought about telling him to slow down, and then I thought of what he had said before. I had done enough waiting. I had wanted this for so long, and it was moving so fast, and it was wonderful, in all honesty. He pressed me against a wall and attacked my throat, teeth and tongue reaching every single square inch that they could. I felt myself getting harder and harder in my pants, and I wanted to hide. I suddenly felt very ashamed. Every time Dean bucked, it felt better and better, but I didn’t want a repeat of the previous day where he would laugh at me like Sam did.

Without warning, he set me down, still very close to me, and started undoing his jeans. It was quiet except for the sound of his zipper, and he stopped. He was panting, and so was I, but he stopped.

”I’m…”

One step of space fall between us, and I was met with his somber eyes.

”Not here.”

He shook himself a bit and zipped his pants back up. Shaken and confused, I stood in silence.

”Not here. Not like this.”

He reached out and fixed my hair, wiping the sweat off of my forehead.

”I’m…I really…”

It was something in his eyes that made me suddenly understand. He didn’t want to be with me like that. Pressed against a wall that was opposite the room his brother was in. Quick and hasty and dirty. The more I thought about it, I didn’t really want that either. I loved Dean, but this was new. It was unexplored territory, and I didn’t know what I was doing.

”Don’t apologize. I understand. And I agree.”

Again he was chest to chest with me, but it was slow. It was careful, and tender, and loving. It filled the air around us and blanketed us, and I felt it in my bones. He approached me with such pure and honest love and care, I doubted for a moment that it was real.

”I want that, trust me, I do, if you do. But I want you to know, I need you to know that you aren’t some cheap fuck, Cas. You’re mine. And when we get there, if we get there, I want to take it slow. I want to feel everything, and I want you to feel everything. I want you to feel safe and happy and I want you to trust me. Is that okay?”

”Yes.”

”Good. Okay. I’m sorry for being like this, I don’t…I don’t do this. I usually just, you know, strike. It’s not like that with you, and it’s really freaking different, and I have no clue what I’m doing here.”

”Neither do I.”

”Yeah. Figuring it out as we go right? I’m trying my best. I’m trying my best to make you happy.

That sentence was easily the strangest thing he could have said to me. He didn’t think like that, he just didn’t. I was the one who was supposed to feel all of the idiotic human emotions and love him hopelessly. I was supposed to hope that one day he would show me how he really felt, take off that rough exterior for just one moment and let me see the Dean hiding underneath, but he never would. Until he did. Until he stood, sweaty and panting in front of me, apologizing about not having sex with me, and hanging his head. It was never like that when I played out the scenarios in my head. That was when I realized that this wasn’t a scenario. This wasn’t something I was imagining. This wasn’t something that was doomed to crumble at any given moment. It was compassion given, and it was compassion given back, and it was Dean standing right in front of me, and it was all suddenly very real.

”I love you, Dean Winchester.”

”I love you too, you sappy sack of feathers.”

He leaned in to kiss me, and I shrugged.

”Close enough."

~~~

Throughout the day, that same message continued to hit me. When he kissed me behind the ear after lunch, it was real. When he pulled me into a hug at the beach “just because”, it was real. When he whispered it quietly sitting next to me in the Impala, shaking his head and laughing, repeating it over and over and over under his breath, it was real. When he held my hand like a bad romance movie and walked me up the stairs and threatened to beat me up if I told anyone he was a cuddler, it was real. He fell asleep wrapped around me, with “I love you” pasted on his lips, and it was real.


	39. Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was real. This was real. All of it was. I had trouble believing it before, but it just fell together.

The last day of our vacation came, and it was bittersweet, to say the least. We began putting the house back in order in the late afternoon. Bobby and Sam looked through local newspapers and searched the internet for another possible case. Winsloe went out for some last minute shopping, and Dean and I spent most of the day in the library. It was quiet, and he didn’t say much, but it was nice. We were simply enjoying sharing each other’s space. When he did speak, it was low and reserved. Every word broke that silence, but just barely. We sat in the far back corner, side by side, backs against the shelves.

”It’s probably gonna rain today.”

I followed his line of sight to the window on the wall opposite us. There was a very large tree in the backyard, and it was swaying a good deal from the wind. The sky was also gray and overcast, and he was probably right.

”I hate driving in the rain.”

The fingers of his right hand traced over the veins in his left. It was obvious that he was upset about something, but didn’t want to tell me, which I understood.

”Not as bad as snow driving, though. Can’t stand that.”

He stared up at the window, and I stared at him. His glow flickered a bit, and I could sense something wrong with him.

”You don’t want to leave, do you, Dean?”

”We have work to do.”

”We always have work to do, that isn’t what I asked you.”

He looked at me then, sighing deep from his chest.

”Who would want to leave this place, you know? It’s perfect. And I came into this knowing it would be this way. That I wouldn’t want to go. We can’t stay here.

”I know that.”

”I mean, do you ever wanna go back to work after a vacation? Especially considering what we’re going back to. As much as leaving a beach to go back to a gray office sucks, I’m pretty sure leaving a beach to go back to what we do is worse.”

”We still have the afternoon.”

”I guess that’s true.”

”So did you do everything you wanted to do while we were here?”

”Yeah. I’m good.”

His eyes glanced quickly back and forth between mine, and I lost myself for the millionth time. I never had any sentiment for eyes before I met him, but his were of a league all their own. A shade of green I couldn’t describe if I tried, and bright. They were the brightest part of him when he was glowing. His eyes stood out to me. Saturated against the rest of him. Amazing.

”What?”

”What?”

”You’re staring at me, Cas.”

”I apologize.”

”It’s cool. Guess I’m kinda staring at you too.”

In an act of sudden courage, I leaned over to him and kissed him. He was only partially surprised. His lips pressed back into me, and I was reminded of how much I loved him all over again. It was like the first time I had seen everything. It was like that day back in Bobby’s kitchen, when the colors came rushing in. I could taste everything Dean had consumed in the last two days. I could smell the salt of seawater on his skin from days ago. I heard him breathing, his heart beating, his jeans moving against the wood floors as he shifted towards me. With every passing second, another wave of it hit me, this feeling of compassion and admiration. With every moment, I feel deeper and deeper in love with Dean Winchester. I like to think that on the other side of that kiss, he was falling deeper and deeper in love with me too. If it was possible for someone like him to truly fall in love with someone like me. A confused, awkward, inexperienced angel walking amongst men, so desperate to blend in with them. I reminded myself that he loved me, he did. I surrounded myself with that feeling, collapsing into it. His hand cupped under my jaw, and he kissed me, and we were just two fools in love for a moment. We were just us for a moment.

~~~

”Let’s go to the beach one more time.”

I stared up at him in bed, already putting on a shirt.

”It’s raining.”

”I know.”

”It’s late.”

”I know.”

”You have to drive a long distance tomorrow.”

”Talked to Bobby and Sam, said they would drive tomorrow. I’ve got a sweatshirt, it’s in the duffel, by the door, put it on.”

”Are you sure, Dean?”

He stopped in the middle of putting on his left boot and stared at me.

”Do I look sure to you?”

”Yes.”

”So let’s go. They’ll hear the car, but they think we’re asleep, so just…zap us.”

”Why?”

He stomped over to me and grabbed each of my shoulders.

”You asked if I had done everything I wanted to, right? I thought about it, and no. And it’s not like we’re coming back any time soon. And there’s something I wanna do. So let’s go.”

”I don’t know-“

”Have you ever done anything fun? Fun, and pointless, and maybe a little bit dumb? Just for the hell of it? Face it, buddy, you and I, we don’t really get a lot of chances to live. I’m doing this, and I’ll go alone if I have to, but I want you to come with me. Please.”

I felt his grip on each of my shoulders loosen a little bit.

”Where is that sweatshirt you want me to wear?”

”That’s my boy.”

~~~

Dean stood in front of me with an idiotic grin on his face as the rain poured down on our heads, the waves crashed against the shore to my right.

”It’s colder than I thought it would be! I mean it’s June, you’d think it would be muggy rain.”

His eyes were squinted shut, and he had to raise his voice over the sound of the ocean and the wind.

”Yes, it is cold.”

”It’s awesome though, right?”

”We came, Dean. You’re going to get sick.”

”Yeah, okay, mother.”

”We came, so why don’t you want to go back?”

He squinted at me and smiled, unzipping his jacket.

”I want to try something.”

He quickly removed his jacket and shirt, shivering visibly, teeth chattering together.

”Dean.”

In no time, he was taking off his shoes and socks as well. I watched him undress, completely bewildered by his actions. The night was nearly black above us, with an almost-full moon hanging low in the sky. The waves continued to crash loudly on the sand as he removed his jeans and looked up at me, still smiling. He stood there in his underwear, a pile of wet clothes next to him, shaking violently. His hair was pressed haphazardly to his forehead, and he clutched his arms around him.

”Undress.”

”No.”

”Come on, Cas.”

”Why, might I ask?”

”For the tenth freaking time just trust me! You don’t even get cold, do you?”

”I do.”

”Oh. Do it anyways.”

”Dean.”

”Please?”

Against my better judgment, I slowly undressed, peeling off one layer of article of a time. He nodded encouragingly every time I stopped, so I continued until I was also in my underwear. My vessel shivered alongside him.

”What now?”

He reached down and held my hand, his grip tight. It was somehow comforting, despite our surroundings. 

”We run.”

He took off down the beach, dragging me with him. As he sped up, I sped up with him, clutching onto his hand tightly. We started to run along the shore, water occasionally coming up around our ankles and splashing as each foot landed. The sand was hard and wet beneath my feet, and the sensation on the soles of my feet was unlike anything I had ever felt. I looked to Dean, and I understood.

His face lit up.

It was almost as though I watched every pain, every stress, every sadness being washed off of him by the rain. He reminded me of a child, and I understood what he meant. The feeling of just living. Just gasping in the thick, wet air. The feeling of the rain on your face, the slight burn in your legs. It all made sense, and he never had to explain.

He turned and looked at me and grinned, still holding my hand as we ran. He let out a loud whoop to the sky, and laughed at nothing.

”Come on Cas! Do it will me! Woohoo!”

I laughed back at him. Perhaps he looked foolish, but I followed suit. I cried out in joy into the night, and it was exhilarating. Each hair stood on end, my pores buzzed and my chest burned. I held on to him for dear life, clinging to his slippery hand as we continued to shout. Every scream would top the last one. We didn’t worry that we would bother anyone. We didn’t worry that we would get sick. We didn’t worry at all.

He finally came to a stop, gasping for air, bent over. I laughed with him, and tried to catch my breath as well. It stung, but it was wonderful. He finally got himself together, and he took my hand again.

”This, Cas. This right here.”

I nodded in agreement, still catching my breath. He was real. This was real. All of it was. I had trouble believing it before, but it just fell together. All I had to do was run.

”This, okay? Forever, you hear me?”

”You aren’t very good with words.”

”Shut up. Hey, neither are you.”

”I have an excuse, I’m not human.”

”Oh really, you’re going that route? Well…”

He quickly yanked me forward, and I followed, approaching the shore.

”Dean?”

He walked for a bit, not looking at me. He finally stopped, and the cold water was up to my neck.

”You suck, Dean.”

”Shut up.”

He pulled me into a kiss, and I clung to him. He was cold, but he was warmer than the air around us. He was slow, and patient, and loving, and everything. Absolutely everything. When he stopped, our forehead were still connected.

”I love you, Castiel. I love you. I think I’ve loved you for a while. But I love you right now, and I’m gonna love you until my heart gives out on me, you understand. It’s different with you. I just…I…do you know what I’m saying?”

”I think so.”

A wave was approaching us, and Dean looked over to it, chuckling against my chest.

”You ready, Cas?”

I nodded, and he kissed me as the wave crashed over our heads, knocking us into the sea. I almost feared that he wouldn’t be able to come back up for air. We got separated, and I was afraid for a moment until I felt a familiar hand grab mine and pulled me. He would come up for air just fine.

He always did.


	40. Just Like Before

I had become an expert at excepting the fact that nothing on Earth was static. Everything around me was temporary. The good, the bad, and all that lied in-between. Human life was flowing in all directions at once, and since I was beginning to let myself adjust to living that way, it applied to me as well. I was gradually understanding that humanity was built on the principle of constant, unpredictable, chaotic change. It was instinctual for me to believe that everything changes, since all past evidence had made me form this idea. Perhaps part of me naturally craved some sort of constant. A solid pillar to use as a point of reference, if you will. I would have never guessed that Dean Winchester would become that for me.

~~~

The night we got back to Bobby’s house, everyone threw down their bags and went to bed almost immediately. Winsloe kissed us all goodnight, and her and Sam retreated to their room. Bobby poured himself a drink, and went to bed as well. Dean had volunteered to get all of bags of the cars. I sat down on the couch and watched him work, carrying bag after bag inside to set them near the door.

I didn’t realize how much I missed Bobby’s house until we were back. The smell of it, the warmth. Something about it was so inviting. It was nothing like the luxury of the vacation home we had been staying in. Somehow, it was better.

Dean walked in with two more big duffel bags, on in each hand. His back was to me, and I watched as his shoulders and biceps flexed with the weight of it. I watched him in silence, and I wondered about the future. I was worried if the same rules would apply. He brought in the last load, and locked the door. He stretched his arms above his head, and sighed lightly. I loved to see Dean like that, the things he did when he didn’t think anyone was watching. He turned around and saw me, jumping slightly.

”Shit Cas, I didn’t know you were there.”

”I didn’t mean to startle you, I apologize.”

”It’s all good.”

He smiled slightly, approaching and wrapping his arms around me, nuzzling into my shoulder.

”Let’s go to bed, Cas.”

~~~

After we got back, life went on as it usually did. They found a few hunts, the first of which I went on with them. There was a wendigo in Texas that needed to be dealt with. We found that it was much easier to handle with a bigger team. That job was done in less than three days, which was uncommon. The next hunt was a shifter in Massachusetts, but I stayed home with Winsloe, since she wasn’t feeling well. The boys came home very broken up, Bobby with a very bad broken foot. I healed each wound accordingly, and I was thanked for it. It continued like this for a while, a huge lump of cases that needed to be taken care of.

For that first month that passed, Dean refocused. He was still close to me when he could be, but he was often busy. Time we would usually spend laying around or sleeping in was spent researching or doing interviews with Sam or Winsloe. I still slept in his bed each night, so that did not change. The difference was that, at the end of the day, Dean came to his bed and he was exhausted, so he fell asleep instantly. I didn’t mind much, but I had to get used to it. I knew that I accepted that I had seen an alternate version of Dean in California, and this was a better reflection of who he really was. Hardworking, and focus, and exhausted. It was a part of his job, and I understood. So when he collapsed wordlessly into the mattress each night, leaning over to kiss me briefly, and fell into a deep sleep within minutes, I was not bothered.

~~~

”I should have known this would happen.”

We sat at the base of the stairs, his hand on my knee as a gripped his shoulder, healing the deep gashes in his side from some monster or another. His eyes were squinted tightly shut in pain, but they slowly opened as the tension visibly left his body. Hopefully, they would not scar at all.

”It couldn’t be helped, Dean. At least you killed it.”

”No. I mean that too, but…”

He stared ahead, and I knew what he was going to say. The supposed ‘distance’ he had been hinting at for days. The last thing I wanted to do to Dean was make him feel uncomfortable, or more accurately, inadequate.

”Don’t.”

”Cas.”

”I get it. I do. You’re busy, and when you aren’t busy, you’re tired. It’s not like how it was on the vacation. That was a fantasy, and this is reality. What I don’t think you understand is that I didn’t fall in love with you there. I fell in love with you here. I fell in love with you bruised and bloody and angry. I didn’t fall in love with the Dean who was lying on the beach, I fell in love with the Dean who had a beer in his hands and a gun tucked into his belt. I know that this is you. And that is okay. I’m going to be here either way. I’m staying, in case I hadn’t made that clear enough.”

”I-“

”I'm not expecting you to change, or to stay the way you were there. I actually would prefer if you stayed just the same. It’s alright, Dean. I’m like Winsloe. I’m a ride or die.”

He chuckled finally, finally at that.

”I don’t really even know what to say to that, Cas.”

”You don’t have to, you’re glowing just fine.”

”How cute.”

”No I mean that literally.”

”What?”

”Did I not tell you that?”

”Shit Cas, no, actually, you left that part out. I…glow? What do you mean I glow?”

”It’s difficult to explain, really. There’s this…field, I guess, around you. Right above your skin. And it glows. It gets brighter when you’re happy, and it dulls when you aren’t. I always see it, sometimes are brighter than others. But it’s always there.”

”So what, is it like an angel thing? You can see light on people?”

”Yes and no. It is one of the qualities that I have as an angel of the lord, from what I understand. But it’s just with you. Are you familiar with imprinting, Dean?”

”What, like baby ducks? Like, the first thing they see is who they follow around like their mom?”

”Yes. It’s similar. It happened to me, as well as Gabriel, probably other angels I presume. There was a moment where something…I guess, broke in me? Broke isn’t the right word. Anyways, something changed, and I realized that you were my one.”

”This is sounding more and more like a soap opera with every freaking word, man.”

”It was before the trip. We were just sitting down, watching television. At this point, I already knew I loved you, but then, like I said, something changed. Every color around me became brighter and more saturated. I could smell and hear things from very far away. Essentially, all of my senses multiplied exponentially. It isn’t as extreme as it was at first, but it still happens from time to time. And it’s because of you, Dean. Something in me finally recognized it, the cogs finally aligned, I suppose. And I realized it was you.”

”Huh.”

”Gabriel has this theory. It’s similar to the idea of soulmates, I suppose, and I know that sounds dumb. Each angel essentially spends their entire existence in search of that companion. He doesn’t think that they are pre-assigned, like the popular soulmate theory. The body seeks the companion, and when one is found, it locks onto them. That is why my reaction to you is so physical. It’s my vessel’s human reaction to what happened naturally for me, because of you.

”Wow.”

”A millennia-long search that I didn’t even realize was happening finally led me to you.”

”Took you long enough.”

He pressed his forehead to me, exhaling silently.

”You’re a freaking sap. Have I told you that?”

”I’m stating facts, Dean.”

”You’re such a girl.”

”I am not insulted.”

”You’re a priss.”

”Dean.”

”You’re…”

”Hmm?”

”You’re perfect.”

He leaned in and kissed me, just as I had been expecting. For such an aggressive person naturally, he was so gentle with me. When he kissed me, I could feel him. I could feel love seeping out of his chest and into me, through me, around me. I gave back everything that I could, everything that I knew how to. His arms wrapped around me for the tenth, hundredth, thousandth time. Inviting and safe, just like every time before. He had difficultly telling me he loved me, that he wanted me to stay, that he belonged to me, so that was how he told me. The world was rising and falling and flowing all around us, but we were just like we were before. Dean didn't change, not at all.

He pulled away from me, and took my hand. I was pulled gently to my feet. I could hear his breathing hitch in his throat, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and I wondered if something was wrong.

”How about you come to bed, Cas? How does that sound, angel?”

”Okay.”

”Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of you.”


End file.
